
y> r^ r 



'AN 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT 



E! 3gz I oxr ci- T ooxr. 



On the lOth (QOth) of ^23ril, 

1835. 



BV EDWARD EVERETT. 






^^ 



f 



b 



V. 



fit 



S 



A I) 1) K E 8 S 



DELIVERED AT LEXINGTON 



lT 



ox THE 19th (.'()th) OF APRIL, 183,3. 



BY EDAYARD EVERETT 
'I 



From the Second Edition, Piiblislied at Cliarlestown, Mass., by 
Willi.im II. Wheildon. 1835. 



WORCESTER : 
PIUNTTED BY TYLEK & SEAGRAVE, 442 MAIN STREET, 
Spy Job Office, opposite City H.nll. 
1 S 7 .-> . 



(0 







rfj 



By transfeir 

JAN 15 t9^« 






ADVERTISEMENT. 

This Book is a reprint from the Second Edition, jniblishe<l in tlie 
jear 1835, and is from a presentation copy bearing the attest of Mr. 
Everett himself, in his own hand writing. It is reprinted in the style 
and form of the original as nearly as possible, the spelling, arrange- 
ment and punctuation being especially preserved. All that is new, is 
the frontispiece and its inscription. This being an engraving of the 
identical bell-tongue which sounded the alarm of the British approach 
to Lexington on the 19th April, 1775, is deemed especially appropriate 
to grace the pages in which the " silver-tongued orator " so gracefully 
depicts the events of that memorable period. The original of this 
engraving is in the possession of lineal descendents of the heroes of 
Lexington, and will be presented by them to the town for perpetual 
preservation, on the one hundredth anniversary of the battle, April 
19, 1875 ; for which occasion, also, this edition of the account of the 
exercises of forty years ago is prepared, as a contribution to the 
pleasurable reminiscences of the day. 



Lexington, Aphil 22, lR3.i. 
Dear Sir, — By the unaniumu? desire of the citizens of Lexinj^ton, wa tender to 
jou their cordial thanks for 3'our eluqueut address, delivered at this place, ou the 
20th instant, i« coniniemoration of the events of the ever memoniblo 19th April, 17V.i, 
and request a copy for the press. 

Wo cannut, sir, withhold an expression of our individual, earnest wishes that you 
will gratify them with the perusal of an address, in which the patriotic virtues of the 
first martyrs to American Independence, and the great principles of civil liberty, are 
60 justly and so eloquently portrayed. 

M'ith the highest respect, we have the honor to be 
Your friends and fellow citize'^s, 

ELIAS PIUN'NEV. 

SAMI'EL CHANDLER, } Committke. 

BbXJAMIX MUZZY, 

Hon. Edward Evereit. 



Chaulkstown, Mass., May T, 183'), 
Gentlemkn, — In compliance with the rojucst of the citizens of Lexington, com- 
municated in your note of the 22d ult., I have furnished for publication a copy of the 
address, delivered by their invitation, on the 20th. 

With my thanks for the obliging terms, in which you have been pleased to expres? 
yourselves, on the subject, I have the honor to be, 

(icntlemen, most respectfully, your friend and fellow-citizen, 

ELiWAllD EVERETT. 
Elias Phinney, Esq. 



Elias Phinney, Esq. f 

Gen. Samuel Chandler, > C' 
Benjamin Muzzy, Esq. y 



ommittee. 



j^Tyjyiij^.ss. 



Fkllow Citizens: — 

At the close of sixty years, we ;ire assembled to commemorate 
the eventful scenes of the opening revolution. We have come together, 
to celebrate the atFectinj; incidents, which have placed the name of this 
beautiful village, on the first page of the History of our Independance. 
The citizens of a free, prosperous, and powerful Republic, we come to 
pay the last honors to the memory of those, who offered themselves up, 
on this spot, the lirst costly sacrifice in the cause of American Liberty. 
]n the day of our peace and safety, in the enjoyment of the richest 
abundance of public and private blessings, we have met together to 
sumuiou up in greatful recollection the images of that night of trial. — 
of fearful anticipation, of high and stern resolve, — and ot that morning 
of blood, which to the end of time, will render the name of Lexington, 
sacred to the heart of the American Freeman. 

Sixty years have passed ,away : — two full returns of the period, as 
signed by the common consent of mankind, to one of our transitory 
generations. I behold around me a few, — alas ! how few, — of those 
who heard the dismal voice of the alarm bell,* on the' 19th of April, 177;'), 
and the sharp angry hiss of the death voUies from the British lines. 
Venerable men ! we gaze upon you with respectful emotion. You 
liave reached an age allotted to the smallest jiortion of our race, and your 
grey heirs, under any circumstances, would be entitled to our homage. 
As the survivors of the militia of Lexington, who, on the 19th of April, 
177.5, were enrolled in defence of the rights of America, and obeyed 
tlie alarm, which called you to defend them, we regard you as objects 
at once of admiration and gratitude. Hut 'when we reflect that you. a 
s-m dl and venerable remnant of those, who first took the field in the 
dawn of that Revolution which wrought out the liberty of the country, 
i.ave been spared, not merely to see that revolution brought to a ti'i- 
umphanl close, but to witness the growth of that country to its present 
lialjny height ofpiosperity and power, wo feel that you are marked 
out by a peculiar Providence, above all the rest of your fellow citizens. 
Hut where, oh, where are your brave associates ? Sever of them, who, 
full of hie, and vigor, and patriotic daring, stood side by side with you, 
sixty years ago, on this ever memorable spot, are gathered, — what is 
mortal of them, — in that mournful receptacle. Others laid down their 
lives for their country, in the hard fought and honorable fields of tlie 
revolutionary war. The greater part have stolen away, one by one, 
and in silence, and lie beneath the sc.ittered hillocks of yonder grave- 
yard. Twelve only survive, — ten alone are present, — to unite with us 
ill the touching rites of this honored anniversary. May the happy 
contrast in your own existence on the great day we commemorate, and 
on this its sixtieth return, and in the position and fortunes of our be- 
loved and common country, prove an ample compensation for your 
anxieties and i)erils, and fill the close of your days with peace and joy.f 

*I''nr .". picture of t >e tongue of tliat " alarm Vil-II," iiec Frontispiece. 

tSoc in note A., tlie roll of Caot. I'arkev's ronijtAuy of Lexington Militi.a, with tiie names of the 
survivor.-! indicated. 



Fellow citizens of Lexington, you ;ire discharginw your duty ; :i filial, 
pious chit}'. The l>lootl which wet these sods on the day you celehrate, 
must not sink uncommemorated into the soil. It is your birth-right ; 
your heritage; the proudest you possess. Its sacred mernory must be 
transmitted by your citizens, from father to son, to the end of time. 
We come to join you. in this solemn act of commemoration. Partakers 
of the blessings, tor which your fathers laid down their lives, we come 
to join you in these last atTecting obsequies. And when all now pres- 
ent shall be passing — passed from the stage ; when sixty years hence, 
we, who have reached the meridian of life, shall have been gathered to 
our fathers, and a few only of these little children shall survive, chang- 
ed into what we now behold in the grey heads and venerable forms 
before us, let us hope that it may at least be said of us, that we felt the 
value of the principles to which the day is consecrated, and the cost at 
which they were maintained. 

We perform a duty which is sanctioned by reason and justice. It is 
the spontaneous impulse of the heart, to award tlie tribute of praise and 
.admiration iu those who have put every thing to risk and sacrificed 
everything to a great public cause, — who have submitted to the last 
dread test of patriotism, and laid down their lives for their country. In 
the present case, it is doubly warranted by the best feelings of our na- 
ture. We do not come to weave fresh laurels for the hero's wreath, to 
flatter canonized pride, to extol the renowned, or to add new incense to 
the adulation which is ever offered up at the shrine of the conqueror : — 
But to give the humble man his due, to rescue modest and untitled 
valor from oblivion ; — to record the names of those, whom neitlier the 
ambition of power, the hope of promotion, nor the temptation of train, — 
but a plain, instinctive sense ot patriotic duty, — called to the field. 

Nor is it our purpose to rekindle the angry passions, although we 
would fain revive the generous enthusiasm of the day we celebrate. 
The boiling veins — the burninsf nerves — the almost maddened brain 
which alone could have encountered the terrors of that daj', have with- 
ered into diist, as still and cold as that with which they have mingled. 
There is no hostile feeling in that sacred repository, No cry for re- 
venge bursts from its peaceful enclosure. Sacred relics ! Ye have 
not come up, from your resting place iu yonder grave yard, on an-er- 
rand of wrath or hatred. Ye have but come a little nearer to the field 
of your glory ; to plead that your final resting place may be on the 
spot where you fell ; — to claim the protection of the sods which you 
once moistened with your blood. It is a reasonable request. There 
is not an American who hears me, I am sure, who would profane the 
touching harmony of the scene, by an unfriendly feeling ; and if there 
is an Englishman present, who carries an Anglo-Saxon heart in his 
l)osom, he will be among the last to grudge to these poor remains of 
gallant foes, the honors we this day pay to their memory. Though 
they fell in this remote transatlantic village, they stood on the solid 
rock of the old liberties of Englishmen, and struck for freedom in both 
hemispheres. 

Fellow Citizens ! The history of the Revolution is familiar to you. 
You are acquainted with it, in the general and in its details. You 
know it as a comprehen.sive whole, embracing, within its grand out- 
line, the settlement and the colonization of the country, — the develop- 



ment, maturity anil rupture of tbe relations between Great I>ritain and 
America. You know it, in the controversy carried on for nearly a 
liundred and fifty years between the representatives of the people and 
tile olRcers of the crown. You know it in the characters of the great 
men, who signalized themselves as the enlightened and fearless leaders 
of the righteous and patriotic cause. You know it in the thrilling in- 
cidents of tlie crisis, when the appeal was made to arras. Y'ou know 
it. — you have studied it, — j-ou revere it, as a mighty epoch in human 
affairs ; a great era in that order of Providence, which, from the strange 
conflict of human passions and interests, and the various and wonder- 
fully complicated agency of the institutions of men in society, — of in- 
<lividual character, — of exploits, — discoveries, — commercial adventure, 
— the discourses and writings of wise and eloquent men, — educes the 
progressive civilization of the race. Under these circumstances, it is 
scarcely possible to approach the subject in any direction, with a well 
grounded hope of presenting it in new lights, or sayi^^g anything in 
which this intelligent and patriotic audience will not run before me, 
and anticipate the words before they drop from my lips. But it is :>. 
theme that can never tire or wear out. God grant that the time may 
never come, when those who, at periods however distant, shall address 
you on the 19th of April, shall have anything wholly new to impart. 
Let the tale be repeated, from father to son, till all its thrilling inci- 
dents are as f;imiliar as household words : and till the names of the brave 
men who reaped the bloody honors of the 19th of April, 1775, are as 
well known to us as the names of those who form the circle at our fire- 
sides. 

The events of the day we commemorate, of course derive their inter- 
est from their connection with that struggle for constitutional liberty, 
which dates from the settlement of the country ; and which is beyond 
question the most important topic, in the history of free government. 
It presents to us a spectacle worthy of the deepest meditation, — full of 
solemn warning, and of instruction not yet exhausted. We are at 
times almost perplexed, with the phenomena which pass before us. 
We see our ancestors ; — a people of singular gravity of character, not 
turbulent nor impracticable, imbued with an hereditary love of order 
and law and of a temper signally loyal ; engaged in a course of almost 
iininterru[)ted opposition to the authority of a government, which they 
professed themselves at all times bound to obey. On the other hand, 
we see the British government, under all administrations, — whether 
animated by' liberal principles or the reverse, — adopting measures and 
pursuing a policy towards the Xorth American colonies, which excited 
discontent and resistance. It is not till after careful scrutiny, that we 
find the solution of the problem, in a truth which, — though our fathers, 
some of them at least, unquestionably felt its reality, — was never pro- 
fessed in any stage of the contest, till the Declaration of Independance, 
and then not as a general axiom, but as a proposition true in the then 
present case, viz : the inherent incongruity of colonial government with 
the principles of constitutional liberty. Such a government,— involv- 
ing as it almost of necessity does, the distance of the seat of power 
from the colony, — a I'eto on the colonial legislation, — an appeal from 
the colonial justice, — a diversion of the colonial resources to objects 
not necessarily connected with the welfare of the people, — together 



( 



\ 



with tlio in'italioii [iroiluci'd by tlio pruseiicc of men in liij;li oliic.', not 
appointed by those wlio :ire obliged to submit to tiieir authority. — 
steins, in its very nature, inconsistent witli the requirnienis of consti- 
tutional liberty, eitiier in the colony or the mother country. It is but 
half the mischief of the colonial system, that it obstructs the growth of 
freedom in the colony ; it favors the growth of arbitrary power, in tln^ 
mother country. It may be laid down as the moral ot tiie long and 
vavii'd struggle, which was brought to a crisis on tliis spot on the IDtii 
of April, 1775, that a colonial government can neither be exercised on 
]irinciples of constitutional liberty, without gross inconsistency, nor 
submitted to byalreo people, [lossessing niuiibers and resources whii-b 
authorize resistance. 

The truth of this doctrine shines brighter and brighter, from each 
successive page in our colonial history. The very genius ot the Brit- 
ish Constitution, — the love of liberty, which was our fathers' iidieri- 
tance, — the passionate aversion to arbitrary power, whicli drove them 
into banishment from the pleasant fields of England. — unfitted them 
for their colonial position and its duties. For this I'eason, the cares of 
the mother country were as wisely bestowed on the colonies, as those 
of the huntsman in the ancient drama, who nursed the lion's whel[> in 
his bosom, and brought him up as the playinate of his children. It 
was the nature, not the vice of the noble animal, that, tame and gentle 
as a lamb at the begiiiinng, he grew up to the strengtli and l)oldness of 
a lion, impatient of restraint, indignant at injury, and ready, at tlie 
first opportunity to bound off to his native woods.* 

From this condition of things it resulted, that the statesmen on both 
sides the water, — as well in Kngland as in America, — who took a lead 
in public affairs, were to use the language of modern ))olitics, in a 
false position, striving to do, what couhl not be done ; — to tax constitu- 
tionally without a representation, and to preserve allegiance in des[)ite 
of everlasting opposition. It was one consequence of this unnatural 
state of things, that the real ground ot the discontents was continually 
misapprehended, — that they were ascribed to temporary, local, and per- 
sonal causes, — and not to the inherent nature of the process wiiich was 
going on, and of the impossibility of a cordial union of elements so 
discordant. This !s peculiarly visible in the writings of Gov. Hutchin- 
son. This valuable historian was on the stage, for the entire genera- 
tion precetling tlie revolution. For more than thirty years before it 
broke out, he was a political leader in Massacluisettts. From the close 
of the French war to the year 177.5, he was probably the most confi- 
dential adviser of the Crown : and for the chief part of tlie time the 
incumbent of the highest offices in its gift. He has brought the histo- 
ry of his native State down to the very moment when, on the eve of 
the war, he left America, never to return. Learned, sagacious, wary, 
conciliatory, and strongl\' disposed, as far as possible, to evade the dif- 
ficulties of his position : no man had better opportunities of knowing 
the truth, and after ina.king jn-oper allowance for his prejudices, few 
are entitled to greater credit in their statements. And vet, with all the 
sources of information in his r(^ach, and all the opportunities enjoyed 
by him to arrive at an enlarged conception of the nature of tlie contro- 
versy, Gov. Ilutcliiuson seriously traces the origin of the revolution to 

*JEfichyl. Agamemn. 720. 



tlie fact, tbat lie liinisulf was appointed cliief justice, instead of James 
Otis, who aspired to the pUice-f 

l»ut a more signal instance ot this delnsiou was of much older date, 
tluiM tlie opposition to the stamp act. The government party never 
niiderstood the character of the people nor tlie nature of the contest; 
and a most memorable proof of this is found, in an act of provincial 
legislation, at the early period of 1IJ94. In that 3'ear a step was taken 
bv the court party, which shewed, in a most extraordinary manner, the 
extent of their infatuation. Before this time, it had been tiie practice 
in many of the country towns to elect, as their representatives to the 
(jeneral Court, citizens of Boston, who, either from being natives of 
tlie towns or for any other cause, possessed the contidence of those by 
wliom they were thus chosen. A number of members ot this class, 
liaving voted against an address to his Blajesty, praying the continu- 
iince of Sir William Phips in ollice, the Court party immediatelv 
brought forward and carried a law, forbidding the election of any per- • 
son as a representative, who did not reside in the town, by which be 
was chosen. Provision was thus made by law to compel the towns, 
even if otherwise disinclined to do so, to take an interest in public 
affairs ; and to secure from their own bosom a constant and faithful 
i-epresentation of the yeomanry. This was a court measure, designed 
to disqualify a few popular citizens of Boston, who had been elected 
for tlie country ; but it may be doubted whether any thing else contri- 
buted more, to carry the great constitutional controversy home to tho 
doors of every citizen of the coinmuuit}', and to link together the town 
and country, by the strongest bonds of political sympatlij'. 

I need but allude to the measures, by which the revolution was at ■ 
last brought on. The Boston Port Bill was a proof, that the British 
Ministry had determined to force matters to extremities ; and it awak- 
ened the liveliest sympathy, in the fate of Boston, from one end of the 
continent to the other, The acts of Parliament passed in 1774, for 
altering the mode of summoning juries and transporting obnoxious per- 
sons to England for trial, were direct violatioiioi of the charter ; and 
indicated the dangerous policy of striking at the lives of individuals, 
under color of legal procedure. Xothing produces so great an exaspe- 
ration, as this policy, and no policy is so weak ; for the most insiiinili- 
caiit individual is made important by proscription ; while few are so 
gitted, but their blood will prove more eloquent than their pens or their 
tongues. These threatening steps, on 'the part of the mini.-try, did but 
liasten the preparations for resistance, on the part of the people of 
America. A continental Congress was organized in 1774, and a pro- 
vincial Congress met, about the same time, in Massachusetts. Before 
the close of that year, the latter body had made arrangements for a levy 
of twelve thousand men in Massachusetts, as her share of twenty thou- 
sand to be raised by tlie New England colonies, and one fourth of the 
number to act as minute, men. By the same authority, magazines were 
established. — arms and munitions of war procured, and supplies ot all 
kinds provided for a state of actual service. Tlie greatest attention 
was paid to drilling and exercising the troops, particularly in the por- 

tFrom ananpcdntcprcsorved l)v Dr. Eliot, (Ditigraph. Diet. Art. llutc'oin.son,) it wnulil «ppi>ar, 
on til*. auHionr.v ot .(iul{;e TrowliriJije, that Otta al.-io viewed the question, in the same connectiou 
\vi.*.ii hi.s own I ersonal lelalions to it. 



tions of the province, immeiliately contiguous to Concord anil Worces- 
ter, where the niiiitury depots were estalilislied. A comiiiittee of safety, 
and a committee of supplies were clotiied with the chief executive 
power. General otlicer.s, — principally tlie veterans of the French war. 
— were appointed to command the troops. As the roj-al forces in 
Hoston, were in the hal)it of making excursions into the ni'ighhoriiig 
country, lor parade and exercise, it became necessary to decide the 
([Uestion, when they shonhi be met with forcible resistance. It was 
resolved by the provincial Congress, that this should be done, whenever 
the troops came out with baggage, an\munitiou, and artillery, and other 
preparations tor hostile action. Having thus made provision for the 
worst, the provincial Congress of Massachusetts adjourned early in 
December, 1774, to give the members an opportunity to keep the stated 
Thanksgiving with their families; — -and among the causes of gratitude 
to Almighty God, even at this dark and anxious period, which are sec 
foith in the proclamation of the provincial Congress, they call upon 
the people to be devoutly thankful for the union of sentiment, which 
prevailed so remarkably in the colonies. 

The situation of Massachusetts, at that time, presents a most strik- 
ing and instructive spectacle. It containeil a po|iulation, not far from 
three hundred thousand ; arrested in the full career of ii)dustrious oc- 
cupation in all the branches of civilizeil pursuit. Their charter was 
substantially abrogated by the new laws. Obeilience was every where 
withheld from the arbitrary powers assumed by the government. The 
proclamations of the governor were treated with silent disregard. The 
port of Boston is shut, and with it much of the commerce of the pro- 
vince is annihilated ; for the neighboring seaport towns vie with eacli 
other, in a generous refusal to take advantage of the distresses of Bos- 
ton. The courts are closed, and the innumerable concerns, which, in 
an ordinary state of things, require the daily and hourly interposition 
of the law, are placed under the safe guardianship of the public senti- 
ment of a patriotic community. The powers, assumed by the commit- 
tees of safety and supplies and by the provincial Congress, are obeyed, 
with a ready deference, never yielded, in the most loval times, to the 
legal commands of tlie king's governors. The community, in a word, 
is reduced. — no, is elevated, — to a state of nature : — to a state of na- 
ture, in a high and solemn sense, in which the feeling of a great im- 
pending common danger and the consciousness of an exalted and reso- 
lute common purpose, take the place at once and with full efficacy, of 
all the machinery of constitutional government. It is thus that a peo- 
ple, fit for freedom, may get the substance before the forms of liberty. 
Luxury disappears, a patriotic frugality accumulates the scattered ele- 
ments of the jiublic wealth ; — feuds are reconciled; — dirt'erences com- 
promised ; — the creditor spares his debtor ; — the debtor voluntarily 
acquits his obligations ; an unseen spirit of order, resource, and power 
walks, like an invisible angel, through the land : — and the people 
thoughtful, calm, and collected, await the coming storm. 

The minds of the people throughout the country, had become thor- 
oughly imbued with the great [irinciples of the contest. These principles 
hud liir years l)een discussed at the primary meetings in Massachusetts; 
and the munici|ial records of many of the towns, at that period, are 
filled with the most honorable proofs of the intelligence and patriotism 



9 

of their citizens. The town of Lexinston stands second to none, in an 
early, strenuous, and able vindication of the rights of the colonies. In 
the year 1765, a very conclusive exposition of tlie question on the stamp 
act was adopted by the town, in the form of instructions to their repre- 
sentative in the general conrt. It is a paper not inferior to the best of 
the daj-. In 1767, the town expressed its unanimous concurrence in 
the measures adopted by Boston, to prevent the consumption of foreign 
commodities. In 1768, a preamble and resolutions v.'ere adopted by the 
town, in which the right of Great Britain to tax America is argued with 
extraordinary skill and power. In 1772, their representative was fur- 
nished with instructions, expressed in the most forcible terras, to seek a 
redress of the daily increasing wrongs of the people. The object of 
these instructions is declared to be, that " thus, whether successful or 
not, succeeding generations may know, that we understood our rights 
and liberties, and were neither afraid nor ashamed to assert or maintain 
them; and that we ourselves may have at least this consolation, in our 
chains, that it was not through our neglect, that this people were en- 
slaved."* In 177.3, resolutions of the most decided and ai.imated 
character were unanimously passed, relative to the duty on tea. At 
numerous town meetings toward the close of 1774, measures were 
taken tor a supply of ammunition, the purchase and distribution of arms, 
and other measures of military defence. A representative was chosen 
to the provincial congress, and the town's tax directed to be paid, not 
to the royal receiver general, but to the treasurer appointed by the pro- 
vincial congress. 

Although the part thus taken by Lexington was in full accordance 
with the course pursued by many otiier towns in the province, there is 
nothing invidious in the remark, that the documents to which I have 
referred, and in which the principles and opinions of the town are em- 
bodied, have few ecjuals and no superiors, among the productions of that 
class. They are well known to have proceeded from the pen of the 
former venerable pastor of the church, in this place, the Reverend Jons's 
Clark, who for many years previous to the revolution and to the close 
of his life, exercised a well deserved ascendancy in the jiublic concerns 
of the town. To the older part of the citizens of Lexington it were 
needless to describe hiin : — they remember too well the voice, to which 
within these walls, they listened so long with reverence and delight. 
Even to those who are too young to have known him, tiio tradition of 
his influence is familiar. Mr. Clark was of a class of citizens, who 
rendered-services second to no other, in enlightening and animating the 
popular mind on the great questions at issue, — I mean the patriotic 
clergy of New-England. The circumstances, under which this portion 
of the country was settled, gave a religious complexion to the whole 
political system. The vigorous growth of transatlantic liberty was 
owing in no small degree to the fact that its seed w.as planted at the 
beginning by men, who deemed Freedom of Conscience a cheap pur- 
bhase at any cost ; and that its roots struck deep into the soil of Puri- 
tanism. Mr. Clark was eminent in his profession, — a man of practical 
piety, — a learned theologian, — a person of wide general reading, — 
a writer perspicuous, correct, and pointed beyond the standard of the 
day, — and a most intelligent, resolute and ardent champion of the 

^Lexington Town Records. — Fol. 2(9. 



10 

I'lipular cause. lie was connccteil, by marriage, with the family of 
.luliu Hancock. To this circumstance, no iloul)t, may properly be 
ascribed some portion of his interest in tlie political movements of the 
time ; while on the mind of Hancock, an intimacy with Mr. Clark 
was calculated to have a strong and a salutary influence. Their con- 
nection led to a ]iortion of the interesting occurrences of the 19th ot 
April, 177.>. The soul-stirring scenes of the great tragedy, which was 
acted out on this spot, were witnessed by Mr. Clark, from the door uf 
his dwelling, hard by. To perpetuate tlieir recollection he instituted, 
the following year, a service of commemoration. He delivered himself 
an historical discourse of great merit, which was followed on the re- 
turns of the anniversary, till the end of the revolutionary war, in a se- 
ries of addresses in the same strain, by the clergy of the neighboring 
towns. Mr. Clark's instructive and elociuent narrative, in the appendix 
to the discourse, remains to this day one of the most important author- 
ities, for this chapter in the histoij' of the Revolution. 

It may excite some surprise, that so great alacrity was evinced in the 
work of military preparation, by the town of Lexington, and other 
towns simihirly situated, in the colonies. How are we to account for 
the extraordinary fact, that a village not of the first class in size, and 
not in any respect so cireuinstanced as to require its citizens to stand 
forth, in the position of military resistance, should have taken such 
l)rompt and v'gorous measures of a warlike character ? This is a fact 
to be explained by a recurrence to the earlier history of the colonies. 
Jt is a truth to which sufficient attention has not, perhaps, been given, 
in connection with tlie history of the revolution, that in the two preced- 
ing wars between Great Britain and France, the colonies had t.iken a 
veiy active and important part.* The military records of those wars, 
us far as the province of Massachusetts Bay are concerned, are still in 
existence. The original muster rolls are preserved in the State House 
at Boston. I have examined a great many of them. They prove that 
the people of ^Massachusetts, between the year 17j.") and 1703, Jier- 
formed an amount ot military service, probably never exacted of any 
other people, living under a government professing to be free. Not a 
village in Massachusetts, but sent its sons to lay their bones in the 
>\'est Indies, in Nova Scotia, and the Canadia n wilderness. Judge 
Jlinot states, that in the year 1757, one third part of the effective men 
of JIassachusetts, were, in some way or other, in the field, and that the 
taxes imposed on real property in Boston, amounted to two thirds of the 
income. In 1759, the General Court, by way of excusing themselves 
'"to-.f3rO*ernor I'ownall for falling short of the military requisitions of that 
year, informed him, that the military service of the preceding year had 
amounted to one million of dollars. They nevertheless raised that year 
six thousand eight hundred men ; a force which contributed most es- 
sentially to the achievement of the great object of the campaign, the 
reduction of Quebec. The population of Jlassachusetls and JIaine, at 
that time, might have been half the present pojiuiation of Massachu- 
setts ; the amount of taxable property beyond all proportion less. 
Besides the hardships of voluntary service, the most distressing levies 
were made on the towns by impressment, enforced by all the rigors of 
martial law. 

•Some remarks WLTp niaue on this subject, in an orutiun dclivcrt'il at Worcester, on the 1th uf 
,Iuly, 1833, by tie author «r tliis a Llress. 



n 

These are not the injst iiffectiiig documents in our archives, to show 
the nature of that school of preparation, in which the men of 1775 were 
I'eareil. Those archives are tilled with the tears of desolate widows 
and bereaved parents. After the disastrous capitulation of Fort William 
Jlenry in 175,7, the Governor of Massachusetts invited those, who had 
relatives carried into captivity among the Canadian Indians, to give 
information to the Colonial Secretar}', that order might be taken for 
their redemption. Many of the original returns to this invitation are 
on tile. Touching memorials ! Here an aged parent in Andovei-, 
transmits the, name of his " dear son," that he may have the benefit of 
'• the gracious design " of the government. A poor widow at Newbury, 
states that her child, who was made captive at what she calls " Rogers' 
great fight," was but seventeen years old when he left her. And old 
.Jonathan Freble of Maine, whose son and daughter-in-law were killed 
by the Indians at Arrowsick Island and six of their children, from 
the age of twelve years down to three months, carried into ca( tivity, 
the same day, " makes bold," as he says, to send up the sad catalogue 
of their names. lie apologises for this freedom, on the ground of 
'• having drank so deep " of this misery ; and then apparently reflect- 
ing, that this was too tender an expression for an ofiicial paper, he 
strikes out the words, and simply adds, " having been deprived of so 
many of my family." The original paper, with the erasure and the 
correction, is preserved. 

In fact the land was filled, town and country, — and in proportion to 
its population, no town more than Lexington, — with men who had seen 
service. — and such service too I There were few villages in this part 
of the Province, which had not furnished recruits for that famous corps 
of Rangers, which was commanded by Rogers and in which Stark 
served his military apprenticeship ; a corps whose duties went as far 
beyond the rigors of ordinary warfare, as that is more severe than a 
holiday parade. Their march was through the untrodden by-paths of 
the Canadian frontier ; — the half-tamed savage, borrowing from civ- 
ilization nothing but its niaildening vices and destructive weapons, was 
the Ranuer's sworn enemy. Huntsman at once and soldier, his supply 
of provisions, on many of his excursions, was the fortune of the chase 
and a draught from the mountain stream, that froze as it trickled from 
the rocks. Instead of going into (puirters when the forest put on its 
sere autumnal uniform of scarlet and gold, — winter — Canadian winter 
— dreary mid winter, — on frozen lakes, through ice-boui,d forests, from 
which the famished deer chased by the gaunt wolf was fain to fl}' to the 
settlements, called the poor ranger to the field of his duties. Some- 
times lie descended the lake on skates ; sometimes he marched on snow 
shoes, where neither baggage-wagon nor beast of burden could follow 
him, and with all his frugal store laden on his back. Not only was the 
foe he sought armed with the tomahawk and scaljiing knife, but the 
tortures of the faggot and the stake were in reserve for the prisoner, 
who, for wounds or distance or any other cause, could not readily be 
sold into an ignominious slavery among the Canadian French. Should 
I relate all the hardships of this service, I should expect almost to start 
the lid of that coffin ; for it covers the remains of at least one lirave 
lieart, who could bear witness to their truth. Captain Spikeman, who 
fell on the '2 1st of January, 1757, raised his company, in which Stark, I 
o 



12 

believe was a lieutenant, prinoi[>:illy in this neighborhooil. The journal 
of General Winslovv contains the muster roll, and I find there the 
names of several inhabitants of Lexington. Ednnind Munroe, (after- 
ward with another of the same name, killed b}' one cannon ball at tiio 
liattle of Monmouth), was ot the staff in Uofjers' regiment ; and Robert 
IMunroe, whose remains are gathered in that resceptacle, was an ensign 
at the capture of Lonisbourg in 17.J8. There could not have been les.s 
than twenty or thirty of the citizens of Lexington, who had learned 
the art of war, in some department or other of the military colonial 
service. They had tasted its horrors in the midnight surprise of the 
savage foe, and ihey liad followed the banners of victory under the old 
provincial leaders, Gridley and Thomas, and Ruggles and Krye, up to 
the ramparts of Quebec. No wonder that they started again at the 
sound of the trumpet ; no wonder that men, who had followed the 
mere summons of allegiance and loyalty to tlie shores of lake Cham- 
j)lain and the banks ot the St. J^awrence, should obey the cry of in- 
stinct, which called them to defend their homes. The blood whicli 
was not too precious to be shed upon the plains of Abraham, in order 
to wrest a tlistant colony from the dominion of France, might well be 
expected to flow like water, in defence of all that is dear to man. 

From the commencement of ]77o, a resort to extremities was mani- 
festly inevitable ; but the time and mode in which it should take 
place were wrapped in solemn uncertainty. The patriots of the high- 
est tone, well knowing that it could not be avoided, did not wish it post- 
poned. Warren burned for the decisive moment ; young, beloved, 
giftert for a splendid career, — he was ready, — impatient for the conflict. 
The two Adamses and Hancock, bore, with scarcely suppressed dis- 
content, the less resolute advances of some of tlieir associates ; — and 
Quincy wrote from London in December, 1774, in the following strain 
of devoted patriotism ; " Let me tell you one very serious truth, in 
which we are all agreed, your countrymen must seal their cause with 
their blood. They must now stand the issue ; — they must preserve a 
consistency of character, -piiey must not delay, they must [resist to 
the death,] or be trodden into the vilest vassalage, — the scorn, the spurn 
of their enemies, a by-word of infamy among all men ! " 

In anticipation of this impending crisis, the measures of military 
prepartion to which I have alluded were taken. The royal Governor 
of Massachusetts had served in the old French war and did not under- 
value his adversary, but adopted his measures of preparation as against 
a resolute foe. Officers in disguise were sent to Concord and Worces- 
ter, to explore the roads and passes, and gain information relative to 
the provincial stores. At Medford the magazine was plundered. An 
unsuccessful attempt was made to seize the artillery at Salem. On the 
30th of March, General Gage sent eleven hundred men out of Boston 
and threw down the stone walls which covered some of the passes in 
the neighborhood. These indications sufficiently showed, that an at- 
tempt to destroy the provincial stores at Concord and Worcester, might 
be expected ; a hostile excursion from Boston, on that errand, was 
daily anticipated, for some time before it took place; — and proper 
measures were taken, by stationing two persons on the look out. in all 
the neighboring towns, to obtain and propagate the earliest intelligence 
of the movement. 



1r» 
a 

In anxious expectation of tlie crisis, a considerable part of the people 
of Boston sought refuge in the country. Inclination prompted them to 
withdraw themselves from beneath the domination of what was now re- 
garded as a hostile military power ; and patriotism suggested the expe- 
diency of diminishing, as far as possible, the number of those, who, 
while they remained iu Boston, were at the mercy of the royal Gov- 
ernor ; and held as hostages for the submission of their countrymen. 

In conjunction with the seizure of the Province stores, the arrest ^ 
some of the most prominent of the patriotic leaders was threatened 
Hancock and Adams had been often designated by name as peculiarly 
obnoxious, and on the adjournment of the Provincial Congress, a stron« 
opinion had been expressed by their friends, that they ought not to re- 
turn to the city. Hancock yielded to the advice and took up his abode 
in this place, — -the spot where his father was born, — where he had 
himself passed a portion of his childhood, and where he found in his 
venerable connection, Mr. C'lark, an associate of congenial temper. 
Beneath the same hospitable roof, Samuel Adams also found a cordial 
welcome. Thus, my friends, your village became the -place of refug* 
and your fathers were constituted the guardians of these distinguished 
l)atriots, at a moment, when a price was believed to be set on their 
lieads. 

Samuel Adams and .John Hancock ! — Do you ask why we should 
pause at their names ? Let the proclamation of General Gage furnish 
the answer : " I do hereby, in his Majesty's name, promise his most 
gracious pardon to all persons, who shall forthwith lay down their arms, 
and return to the duties of peaceable subjects, excepting only from the 
benefit of such pardon, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose 
offences are of too flagitious a nature, to admit of any other considera- 
tion than that of condign punishment." 

The flagitious otfeuces of Hancock and Adams were their early, unre- 
bn&jg, and fearless efforts, in defence of the rights of American freemen ; 
ana the cordial co-operation of these men, in that great cause, unlike 
as they were in everything else, is one of the most pleasing incidents 
of the history of the revolution. John Hancock would have been the 
spoiled child of fortune ; if he had not been the chosen instrument of 
Providence. His grandfather was for fifty-four years ^e pastor, with 
great authority, of this church, and his father, afterwards minister of 
iJraintiee, was born in Lexington. John Hancock was left an orpliau 
at the age of seven years, and from that period, passed much of his 
time iii tliis village, and received a part of his education, at the town 
school. After leaving college, he entered the family and became asso- 
ciated in the business of his uncle, a distinguished citizen and a wealthy 
merchant in Boston, who shortly afterwards died, bequeathing to John 
H^cock a fortune of seventy thousand pounds sterling ; — the largest 
_■ Restate, probabl}', which had ever been amassed in the colonies. He 
was thus left at twenty-seven years of age, without parents, brought up 
in luxury, distinguished for personal appearance, voice, manners, and 
address, the master of a princely estate. He seemed, as it were, marked 
out by destiny, to pursue the tempting path of royal favor. He was 
accused of ambition. But what had he to gain by joining the austere 
ranks of those, who w^re just commencing the great battle of liberty ? 
He was charged with a love of display. But no change of public 



14 

affairs cotil<l improve his private fortunes ; anil lie had but to seek them 
through the paths of loyalty, anil all the honors of the empire, pertain- 
ing in any measure to liis position, are at liis commaml, on either siile 
of the Atlantic. The tempter diil whisper to liim, that he might leail 
a gay and luxurious existence, within the precincts of the court. But 
lis heart was beneath yonder roof, where liis father was born. In the 

lidst of all the enjoyments and temptations of London, he rememl)creil 
^he school, where he had first learned to read his bible; and exclaimed, 
Amidst the seductions of the British metropolis, " If I forget thee, Oh ! 

Jew England, may my right hand forget her cunning." 
He witnessed tiie coronation of George III., and it was the immedi- 
ate spectacle of a life of court attendance, that tauglit John Hancock 
to prize the independence of a Boston merchant: — of an American 
citizen. He returned from England, to plunge heart and soul, into 
the contest for principle and for liberty. He .scattered his princely 
wealth like ashes. He threw his property into the form, in whicli it 
would he least productive to himself, and most beneficial to the indus- 
trious and snfl'ering portion of the community. He built ships at a 

ime, not when foreign trade was extending itself, but when new re- 

rictions were daily laid upon the commerce of America, and the 
shipwrights were starving ; and he built houses, when real estate was 
rapidly sinking in value. He shnnned personal danger as little as he 
spared his purse. On the retirement of Peyton Randolph from the 
chair of Congress in May, 175.5, he was called by the members of that 
venerable body to preside in their councils, and in that capacity, he 
had the singular good fortune to sign the commission of George Wash- 
ington, and the immortal honor to affix his name first to the Declara- 
tion of Independence. To the solid qualities of character he added 
all the graces of the old school ; and as if to meet the taunts, which 
were daily pointed at the rustic simplicity of the American cause, the 
enemies of the country beheld in its patriotic President, an elegance of 
appearance and manners unsurpassed at their own Conrt. AVhen the 
rapid depreciation of Contiuentiil paper had greatly increased the 
distresses of the people, Hancock instructed his agents at home, 
to receive that poor discredited currency, with which his country was 
laboring to carry on the war, in payment of everything due to him ; 
and when asked. his opinion in Congress of the policy of an assault 
upon Boston, he recommended the measure, although it woyld lay 
half his property in ashes. During all the distresses, which preceded 
the commencement of hostilities, while Boston was sinking under the 
privations of the Port Bill, Hancock not only forebore the enforcement 
(if his debts, but literally shared his diminished income with his sutfer- 
ing townsmen. Providence rewarded his warm-hearted and iincalcu- 
lating patriotism, with the highest honors of the country ; enabled him 
to build up his impaired estate out of the ashes of the Kevohition ; and 
gave him a place as bright and glorious, in the admiration of mankind. 
'• as if," — to use the words of Daniel Webster, '• his name liad been 
written in letters of light, on the blue arch of heaven, between Orion 
and the Pleiades." 

Samuel Adams was the counterpart of his distinguished associate in 
proscription. Hancock served the cause with his liberal 0[)ulence, 
Adams with his incorruptible poverty. His f;im;ly at times suffered 



15 

almost for the comforts of life, when he might have sold his influence 
over the councils of America for uncounted gold, — when he might 
have emptied the British treasury, if he would have betrayed his 
country. Samuel Adams was the last of the Puritans ; — a class of men 
to whom the cause of civil and religious liberty on both sides of the 
Atlantic, is mainly indebted, for the great progress which it has made 
for the last two hundred years ; and when the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence was signed, that dispensation might be considered as brought to 
a close. At a time when ^he new order of things was inducing laxity 
of manners and a departure from the ancient strictness, Samuel Adams 
clung with greater tenacity, to the wholesome discipline of tlie fathers. 
His only relaxation from the business and cares of life was in the in- 
dnjgence of a taste for sacred music, for which he was qualified by tlie 
possession of a most angelic voice, and of a soul solemnly impressed 
with religious sentiment. — Resistance of oppression was his vocation. 
On taking his second degree, he maintained the noble thesis, that it is 
'■ lawful to resist the supreme magistrate, if the Commonwealth cannot 
otherwise be preserved." Thus, at the age of twenty-one, twenty yean 
before the stamp act was thought of, Samuel Adams, from the cloister) 
of Harvard College, announced in two lines, the philosophy of th 
American Revolution. His after life shewed that his practice was no* 
below his theory. On leaving college, he devoted himself for some 
years to the profession of divinity ; but he gave himself afterwards 
wholly to the political service of the country. He was among the ear- 
liest and ablest writers on the patriotic side. He caught the plain, 
downright, style of the Commonwealth in Great Britain. More than 
most ot his associates, he understood the efficacy of personal intercourse 
with the people. It was Samuel Adams, more than any other individ- 
ual, who brought the question home to their bosoms and liresides, — 
not by profound disquisitions and elaborate reports; — though these in 
their place were not spared, — but in the caucus, the club-room, at the 
green-dragon, in the ship-yards, in actual conference, man to man and 
heart to heart. He was fortjc=six years of age, when he first came to 
the House of Representatives. There he was, of course, a leader ; a 
member of every important committee ; — the author of mapy of the 
ablest aiul boldest state papers of the time. — -But the throne of his 
ascendency was in Fanned Hall. As each new measure of arbitrary 
power was arinounced, frcm across the Atlantic, or each new act of' 
menace and violence, on the part of the officers of the "government or 
of the army, occurred in Boston, — its citizens, oftentimes in astonish- 
ment and perplexity, rallied to the sound of his voice in Fanueil Hall ; 
and there, as from tlie crowded gallery or the moderator's chair, lie 
animated, enlightened, fortified, and roused the admiring throng, he 
seemed to gather them together beneath the a-gis of his indomitable 
spirit, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings. With his 
namesake John Adams, Warren, and Hancock, he perceived the inevi- 
table necessity of striking for Independence, a considerable time, before 
it was generally admitted. In some branches of knowledge he was ex- 
celled by other men ; but one thing lie knew thoroughly, and that was 
Liberty. He began with it early, studied it long, and possessed the 
whole science of it. He knew it, class and order, — genus and species, 
— root and branch. With him it was no matter of frothy sentiment. 



4 



16 

lie knew it was no gaudy May-day flower, peeping tlirough the soft 
vei-daiit sods of SiMiiig, and opening its painted petals as a dew cup for 
midnight fairies to siput. He i<new it was an austere and tardy growth, 
— the food of men, long hungering for tlieir inalienable rights, — a seed 
scattered broad cast on a' rough though genial soil, — ripening beneath 
lowerin'' skies aiul autumnal frosts, — to he reaped with a bloody sickle. 
Instead of quailing, his spirit mounted and mantled with the approach 
of the crisis. Chafed and fretted with the minor irritations of tlie early 
stages of the contest, he rose to a religious tranquility, as the decisive 
hour drew nigh. In all the excitement and turmoil of the anxious days 
that preceded the explosion, he was of the few, who never \<»l their 
balance, lie was thoughtful, — serious almost to the point of steinness, 
— resolute as fate; hut cheerful himself, and a living spring of ani- 
nia'ion to otheis. Me stood among the people a pillar of safety and 
strength : — * • 

As f»nme taU cliff, that liftfl ita awful form, 
i'wclls from tin; vale, and midway leavt-s the storm : 
Thouf^h round Its breast the loUinp; clouds are spread, 
£tc>rnal BUDsUiuc settles on its head. 

nd so he looked foiward to the impending struggle, as the consum- 
aiion of a great design, of which not man hut God had laid the fouu- 
lation stone, on the rock of I'lymouth; and when on the morning of 
the day you now commemorate, the voUics of fire-arms from this spot 
announced to him and his companion, in the neighl)oring field, that the 
great battle of liberty had begun, he threw up his arms and exclaimed, 
in a burst of patriotic rapture, " Oh. what a glorious morning is this!" 
Yes ! fellow citizens, such was the exclamation of Samuel Adams, 
when a thousand British troops were in possession of your village, and 
seven of your citizens were struggling in the agonies of death. — His 
prophetic soul told him that the ilivint^ form of his country's liberty would 
^;'flf- follow on, tbe next personage in that fearful but all-glorious pageant 
He saw that the miirniiig sun, whose first slanting beams were dancing 
on the tops of the hostile bayonets, would not more surely ascend the 
b hcavens,.than the sun of independence would arise on the clouded for- 

I tunes of his country. The glory he foresaw has come to pass. Two 

' geiiorations attest the truth of Jiis high souled prophecy. And you, 

IBM^ "village Ilampdens, who, with dauntless breast" withstood, not ''the 
^^^^K petty tyrant of'your fields," but the dread and incensed sovereign of a 
^^H^ migiity empire, when he came in his embattled hosts to subdue you ; 
W^^ yoii. who sealed your devotion to the cause by the last great attestation 
of sincerity, your blood has not sunk unprofitably i;ito the ground. If 
your spirits are conscious of the honors we now pay your relics, you 
behold in the wide spread prosperity of the growing millions of Ameri- 
ca, the high justification of that generous impulse, whit'h led you, on 
that glorious morning, to the field of death ! 

On Saturday the loth of April the provincial congress, then in ses- 
sion at Concord, adjourned to meet again, on the 10th of May. It is 
probable that the intelligence of this event hud not reached General 
Gage in Boston, when, on the same day, he commenced his arrange- 
ments for the projected expedition. The grenadiers and light infantry 
were relieved from tlieir several stations in Boston, and concentrated 



17 



on the common, nuder pretence of learning a new military exercise. 
At miflniglit following, the boats of the transport ships, which had been 
previonsly repaired, were launched and moored under the sterns of the 
men of war in the harbor. Dr. Warren, on his way home from the 
CoTigress on Saturday, had expressed to the family of Mr. Clark, his 
firm persuasion, that the moment was at hand when blood would flow, 
lie justly regarded the military movements of the following night, as 
a confirmation of this opinion, and despatched Colonel Paul Revere the 
next day, to this place, to bring the intelligence to Messrs. Hancock 
and Adams. They naturally inferred from the magnitude of the pre- 
jiaratioMs, that their own seizure could not be the sole oliject, and ad- 
vised the committee of safety, then sitting at West Cambridge, to order 
the distribution into the neighboring towns of the stores collected at 
Concord. Colonel Paul Revere, on his return to town, on Sunday, 
concerted with his friends in Charlestown, that two lights should be 
shown from the steeple of the North Church, if the British troops 
should cross in boats to Cambridge, and one, if they should march out, 
over Boston neck. 

Wednesday, the 19th, was fixed upon as the eventful day. Ten or 
twelve British officers were sent out the day before on horseback, who 
dined at Cambridge, and at nightfall scattered themselves on the roads 
to Concord, to prevent the communication of intelligence from the town. 
Kaily information of this fact was brought to this place, by Solomon 
Brown* of Lexington, who returned late from Boston market on the 
afternoon of the 18th, and passed them and was passed by them 
several times, as they sometimes rode forward or fell back on the road. 
A despatch to the same effect was also sent by Mr. Gerry, of the com- 
mittee of safety, at West Cambridge, to Mr. Ilaiicock, whose answer, 
still preserved, evinces the calmness and self-possession, which he 
maintained at the approaching crisis. In consequence of this informa- 
tion, a guard of eight men, under the late Col. Wdliam Munroe, then 
a sergeant in the Lexington company, was inarched, in the course of 
the evening, to Mr. Clark's house, for the protection of Messrs. Adams 
and Hancock. At the same time, Jlessrs. Sanderson, Loring.f and 
Brown, were sent up towards Concord, to watch the movement of the 

■ i';rs. They came upon them unawares in Lincoln and fell into 
their hands. About midnight Colonel Paul Revere, who had lelt Bos- 
ton, by direction of Dr. AVarren, as soon as the movement of the 
troops was discovered, and had passed by the way of Charlestown. 
(where he narrowly escaped two British officers,) through Mcdford. and 
West Cambridge, giving the alarm at every house on the way, — arrived 
at Mr. Clark's with despatches from Dr. Warren, for Hancock and 
Adams. Passing on towards Concord, Revere also fell into the hands 
of the British officers in Lincoln, but not till he had had an opportunity 
r)f communicating his errand to young Dr. Presoott of Concord, whom 
he overtook on the road. At the moment Revere was arrested by the 
officers, Prescott succeeded in forcing his way through them, and thus- 
carried the alarm to Concord. The intelligence sent by Dr. Warren 
to Messrs. Hancock and Adams, purported that '■ a largj body of the 

* Mr. Brown is still living, but from the <listan(*e of his place of residence, was not able to at- 
t'-nd, with the other survivors of Captain Parker's company, (eleven in number,) the •elebration 
of the anniversary. 

t .Mr. Lorinji was present on the itage.at the delivery of tliii address. 



18 

King's troops, (supposed to be a brigade of 1200 or 1500 men.) bad 
embarked in boats ti'om Boston." 

After tlie detention of an hour or two in Lincoln, the British officers 
were informed l>v Colonel Revere, of all the measures he had taken to 
alarm the country ; and deemed it expedient for tlieir own safety to 
hasten back toward Boston. On their way toward Lexington, they put 
many (juestions to their prisoners, as to the place where jMossrs. Ad- 
ams and Hancock were residing. As they approached Lexington, the 
alarm bell was ringing and a volley was fired by some of the militia, 
then assembling on the green. I'pon this they hastened their flight, 
and just as they entered the village their prisoners escaped from them. 
Colonel Revere repaired to the house of Mr. Clark, and the general 
apprehensions relative to his distinguished guests, having been con- 
firmed by the interrogatories of the British officers, Messrs. Hancock 
and Adams were persuaded with great difficulty to withdraw from the 
immediate vicinity ot the road. On the return of Colonel Revere to 
the centre of the village, he met Captain Thaddeus Bowman coming 
up the road, in full gallop, with the news that the British troops were 
at band. 

It was at this time, between four and five o'clock in the morning. 
Three messengers had been sent down the road, to ascertain the ap- 
proach of the British aimy. The two first brought no tidings, and the 
troops were not discovered by the third. Captain Bowman, till they 
were far advanced into the town. They had been put in motion about 
seven hours before, on IJoston common. They crossoil in boats, near 
the spot where the Court House now stands in East Cambridge ; and 
there took up their march, from eight hundred to one thousand strong, 
grenadiers, light infantr\', and marines. They crossed the marshes, 
inclining to their right, and came into the Charlestown and West Cam- 
bridge road, near the foot of Prospect hill. It was a fine mnonlight, 
chilly night. No hostile movement was made by them, till they reached 
West Cambridge. The committee of safety had been in session in 
that place, at Wetherbee's tavern ; and three of its distinguished mem- 
bers. Vice-President Gerry, Colonel Lee, and Colonel Orne, had taken 
up their lodging for the night, at the same house. The village, having 
been alarmed by Colonel Revere, was on the alert at the approach of 
the army ; and Messrs. Gerry, Lee, and Orne, had risen from their 
beds and gone to tlieir windows, to contemplate the strange spectacle. 
As the troops came up, on a line with the house, a sergeant's guard 
was detached to search it ; and the members of the committee had but 
a moment to escape by flight into the adjacent fields. 

It Wis now perceived by Colonel Smith, who commanded the Brit- 
ish detachment, that the country, on all sides, was in a state of alarm. 
The news had spread, in every direction, both by the way of Charles- 
town and Roxbury. The lights in the North Church steeple had given 
the signal, before tlie troops had fairly embarked. It was propagated 
by the alarm-bell from village to village ; volleys from the minute-men 
were heard in every direction ; and as fast as light and sound could 
travel, the news ran through JMassachusetts, I might say through New- 
Kni;land ; and every man as he heard it sprang to his arms. As a 
measure of precaution, under these circumstances. Colonel Smith de- 
tached six companies of light infantry and marines, to move forward 



1 it 

uiulcr Majur Pitcii'u-iio anil tiike possession ot tlie bridges at Concord, 
ill order to cut off communication with the interior of the countrv. 
At the same time also, lie sent l)ack to General Gage and aslied a rein- 
forcement, a piece of forethouglit which saved all that was saved of the 
fortunes of that day. Before these detached companies could reach 
Lexingion, the officers already mentioned were hastening down the 
road ; and falling in with Major Pitcairne, informed him. that five hun- 
dred men were assembling on Lexington green to resist the troops. In 
consequence of this ex.aggerated account, the advance party was halted, 
to give time for the grenadiers to come uj). 

And thus, fellow citizens, having glanced at all the other movements 
of tliis memorable night, we are prepared to contemplate tliat, which 
gives interest to them all. The' company assembled on this spot, and 
which had been swelled by the British officers to five hundred, con- 
sisted in reality of sixty or seventy of the militia of Lexington. On the 
receipt of the information of the excursion of the officers and the move- 
ment of the troops, a guard had been set, as we have seen, at the house 
of Mr. Clark, the evening before. After the receipt of the intelligence 
brought by Revere, the alarm bell was rung; and a summons sent 
round to the militia of the place, to assemble on the green. This was 
done by direction of the commander of the company, Captain John 
Parker, — an officer of approved firmness and courage. lie had proba- 
bly served in the French war. and gave many proofs, on this trying oc- 
casion, of a most intrepid spirit. About two o'clock in the morning, 
the drum beat to arms, the roll was called, and about one hundred and 
thirty answered to their names ; — -some of them alas, — whose ashes, 
now gathered in that depository, invoke the mournful honors of this 
day, — for the last time on earth. INIessengers were sent down the road 
to bring intelligence of the troops ; and the men were ordered to loacl 
with powder and ball. One of the messengers soon returned with the 
report that there were no troops to be seen. In consequence of this 
information, as the night was chilly, in order to spare the men, already 
harrassed by the repeated alarms which had been given, and to relieve 
the anxiety of their families, the militia were dismissed ; but ordered 
to await the return of the other expresses, sent down to gain a knowl- 
edge of the movements of the enemy, and directed to be in readiness, 
at the beat of the drum. About half the men sought refuge from the 
chill of the night, in the public house still standing on the edge of the 
green ; the residue i-etired to their homes in the neighborhood. One 
of the messengers was made prisoner by the British, who took effectual 
precautions to arrest every person on the road. Benjamin Wellington 
hastening to the centre of the village, was intercepted by their ad- 
\anced jiarty, and was the first person seized by the eneni)' in arms, in 
the revolutionary war. In consequence of these precautions, the troops 
remained undiscovered till within a mile and a half of this place, and 
>\hen there was scarce time for the last messenger, Captain Thaddeus 
Bowman, to return with the tidings of their certain approach. 

A new, the last alarm is now given : — the bell rings, — -guns are llred 
in haste on the green, — the drum beats to arms. The militia, within 
reach of the sound, hasten to obey the call, sixty or seventy in number, 
and are drawn up in order, a very short distance in rear of the spot on 
which we stand. The British troops, hearing the American drum, re- 



1^0 

giivd it :is ii uhalleinif. ami aiL- luilti-il at tlie ilistaiice. uf oiiu liiinclrcil 
and sixty roils, to loail tlicif jfuns. .Vt tlie sii;lit ot' tiiis preixiration, a 
few of tlic militia, on the two fxtreinitius of the line, naturally feeling 
tlie madness of resisting a force outnumbering their own. ten to one, 
and supposed to be near twice as large as it was, shewed a disposition 
to ri'treat. Captain Parker ordered them to stand their ground, threat- 
ened death to any man who should fly, — but directed them not to tiro 
unless first fired njjon. The commanders of the British forces advance 
some rods in front of their troops. AVith mingled threats and oaths, 
they bid the 'Americans lay down their arms and disperse, and call to 
their own troops, now rushing furiously on, — the light infantry on the 
right of the church, in which we are now assembled, and the grenadiers 
on the left, — to fire. The order not being followed with instant obe- 
dience, is renewed with oaths and imprecations, — -the otficers discharge 
their i>istols,— and the foremost i)latoon lires over the heads of the 
Americans. No one falls, and John Munroe, standing next to a kins- 
man of the same family name, calmly oliserved, that they were firing 
nothing but powder. Another general volley, aimed with fatal preci- 
sion, succeeds. Ebenezer Munroe replied to the remark just made, 
that something more than powder was then fired, as he was shot him- 
self, in the arm. At the same moment several dropped arovmd them, 
killed and wounded. Cajitain Parker now felt the necessity of direct- 
ing his men to disperse ; but it was not till several of them had re- 
turned the British fire, and some of them more than once, that this 
handful of brave men were driven from the field. 

Of this gallant little company, seven wore killed and ten wonnded, a 
quarter part at least of the number drawn up, and a most signal proof 
of the firmness, with which they stood the British fire. Willingly would 
I do justice to the separate merit of each individual of this heroic band ; 
but tradition has not furnished us the means. A few interesting anec- 
dotes have however been preserved. Jedediah jNlonroe was one of the 
%vounded. Not disheartened by this circumstance, instead of quitting 
the field, he marched with his company in pursuit of the enemy to Con- 
cord, and was killed in the afternoon. Kbenezer Monroe. Jr. received 
two wounds, and a third ball through his garments. William Tidd, 
the second in command of the company, was pursued by Major Pit- 
cairne, on horseback up the north road, with repeated cries to stop, or 
he was a dead man. Having leapt the fence, he discharge<l his gun at 
his pursuer, and thus compelled him in turn to take flight. Itobert 
Monroe was killed with Parker, Muzzy, anil Jonathan Harrington, on 
or near the line where the company was formed. Robert Monroe had 
served in the French wars. He was the standard-bearer of his com- 
pany, at the capture of Louisbourg, in 17J8. He now lived to see, set 
up for the first time, the banner of his country's Independence. He 
saw it raised amidst the handful of his brave associates ; alas, that he 
was struck down, without living like you, venerable survivors of that 
momentous day, to behold it, as it dallies with the wind and scorns the 
sun, blest of heaven and of men, — at the head of the triumphant hosts 
of America ! All hail to the glorious ensign I Courage to the heart 
and strength to the hand, to w hich, in all time it shall be intrusted ! 
May it forever wave in honor, in unsullied glory, and patriotic hope, on 
the dome of the capitol, on the country's strong holds, on the tented 



21 

plain, on the wave-rocked top-mast. Wlieresoever on the earth's sur- 
face, the eye of the American shall behold it, may he have reason to 
bless it. On whatsoever spot it is planted, there may freedom have a 
foot-hold, humanity a brave champion, andreligion au altar. Though 
stained with blood in a rirjhteous cause, may it never in any cause, be 
stained with shame. Aliiie, when its gorgeous folds shall wanton in 
laz3' holiday triumph, on the summer breeze, and its tattered fragments 
be dimly seen through the clouds of war, may it be the joy and pride 
of the American heart. First raised in the cause of right and liberty, 
in that cause alone, may it forever spread out its streaming blazonry to 
the battle and the storm. First raised in this humble village, and since 
borne victoriously across the continent and on every sea, may virtue 
and freedom, and peace forever follow, where it leads the way ! The 
banner which was raised, on this spot, by a village hero,* was not that, 
whose glorious folds are now gathering round the sacred depository of the 
ashes of his brave comp.'inions. lie carried the old provincial flag of 
Massachusetts-Bay. As it had ence been planted in triumph, on the 
walls of Louisbourg, Quebec, and Montreal, it was now raised in a 
New-England village, among a band of brave men, some of whom had 
followed it to victory in distant fields, and now rallied beneath it, in the 
bosom of their homes, determined, if duty called them, to shed their 
blood in its defence. IMay heaven approve the omen. The ancient 
standard of Massachusetts Bay W'as displayed for the confederating 
colonies, before the Star-Spangled Banner of the Union had been 
flung to the breeze. Should the time come, (which God avert), when 
that glorious banner shall be rent in twain, may Massachusetts, v.'ho 
first raised her standard in tlie cause of United America, be the last by 
whom that cause is deserted ; and as many of her children, who first 
raised that standard on this spot, fell gloriously in its defence, so may 
the last son of Massachusetts, to whom it shall be entrusted, not yield 
it but in the mortal agony ! 

Harrington's was a cruel fate. He fell in front of his own house, 
on the north of the common. His wife, at the window, saw him fall, 
and then start up, the blood gushing from his breast. He stretched 
out his hands towards her, as if for assistance, and fell again. Rising 
once more on his hands and knees, he crawled across the road towards 
his dwelling. She ran to meet him at the door, but it was to see him 
expire at her feet. Hadley and Brown were pursued, and fell, after 
they had left the common. Porter, of AVoburn, was unarmed. He 
had been taken prisoner on the road, before the British army reached 
Lexington. Attempting to make his escape, when the tiring com- 
menced, he was shot within a few rods of the common. Four of the 
company went into the meeting-house which stood on this spot, for a 
supply of ammunition. The}' had brought a cask of powder from an 
upper loft into the gallery, and removed its head. At this moment, 
the house was surrounded b}' the British force, and the discharge of 
musketry and the cries of the wounded aimounced that the work of 
death was begun. One of the four secreted himself in the opposite 
gallery. Another, Simonds, cocked his gun, and lay down by the 
open cask of powder, determined never to be taken alive. Comee and 
Harrington resohed to force their way from the house, and in this des- 

* .loseph Siniontl;" wiis the ciK-ii^n of (lu- I.i'xin;:ton compriny on the Ifth of Ai'ril, IT'.'i. 



22 

perate attempt, C'oraee was wounded and Harrington killed. History, 
— Eoman histoi'v, — docs not furnish an example of liravery that out- 
shines that of Jonas Parker. A truer heart did not hleed at Ther- 
mopylae He was the next door neif;hlior of Mr. Clark; and had 
evidently imbibed a double portion of his lofty spirit. Parker was often 
heard to say, that be the consequences what they miitht, and let others 
do what they pleased, he would never run from the enemy. He was as 
good as his word ; — better. Having loaded his musket, he placed his 
liat, containing his ammunition, on the ground, between his feet, in read- 
iness for a second charge. At the second tire, he was wounded, and 
sunk upon his knees, and in this condition, discharged his gun. 
While loading it again, upon his knees, and striving in the agonies of 
death to redeem his pledge, he was transfixed by a bayonet ; — and thus 
died on the spot where he first stood and fell. 

These were a portion of the terrors of this blood-stained field, but 
how shall I describe the agonizing scene whieh presented itself, that 
fearful night and the following day, to every family in Lexington 'i — 
The husband, the father, the brother, the son, gone forth on the errand 
of peril and death. The aged, the infirm, the unprotected, left, 
witliout a guardian, at the desolate fireside, at this dismal moment, 
awaiting the instant intelligence of some fatal disaster; — fainting under 
the exaggerated terrors of a state of things so new and trying ; — or 
fleeing half clad and bewildered to the covert of the neighboring woods. 
there to pass the ensuing day, famished, — exhausted, — distracted, — the 
prey of apprehensions worse than death. The work of destruction had 
begun. Who could assure them, that their beloved ones were not 
among the first victims ? The British force hail moved on towards 
Concord, and the citizens of Lexington had joined in the pursuit. What 
new dangers awaited them on tlie mai-ch ? The enemy was to return 
through their village — exasperated with opposition, — what new horrors 
might not be expected from his vengeance? 

While a considerable portion of the unarmed population of Lexing- 
ton, dis'persed through the nearest villages, or wandering in the open 
air, behind the neighboring hills, and in the adjacent woods, were 
at the mercy of these apprehensions, the British column moved on to- 
ward Concord. The limits of the occasion put it out of my power to 
dwell, as I would gladly do, on the gallant resistance made at Concord, 
— the heroic conduct of Davis, Hosmer and Buttrick and their brave 
companions, — -the rapid and formidable gathering of the population, 
the precipitate and calamitous retreat of the enemy. On the return of 
this anniversary, ten years ago, I endeavored, at the request of our 
fellow citizens of Concord, as far .as I was aide, to do justice to this 
interesting narrative, and to the distinguished and honorable part borne 
by the people of Concord, in the m(>moral)le transactions of the day. 
Time will only permit me now to repeat in brief, that the country- 
poured down its population in every direction. They gathered on the 
hills, that overlooked the road, like dark lowering clouds. Every patch 
of trees, every stream, covert, building, stone wall, was lined, to use 
the words of a British officer, with an unintermitted fire. A skirmish 
engaged the enemy, at e\eiy defile and cross road. Through one of 
them Governor Brooks led up the men of lieading. At another. Cap- 
tain Parker, with the Lexin"'ton militia. althou";h seventeen of his 



23 

number had been killed or wounded in the morning, returned to the 
contiict. Before they reached Lexington, the rout of tlie invaders was 
complete; and it was only by placing themselves in the front, and 
threatening instant death to their own men, if they continued their 
fligiit, that the British officers were able in some degree to check their 
disorder. Their entire destruction was prevented, by the arrival of 
reinforcements under Lord Percy, who reached Lexington, in time to 
rescue the exhausted troops, on their flight from Concord. Lord Percy 
brought with him two pieces of artillery, which was stationed on points 
commanding the road. A cannon shot from one of them passed through 
the meeting-house, which stood on this spot. These pieces were dili- 
gently served, and kept the Americans at bay ; but the moment the 
retreat was resumed, the whole country was again alive.* It was a 
season of victory for the cause, — auspicious of the fortune of the re- 
volution ; — but purchased with accumulated sacrifices on the part of 
Lexington. To cover their retreat, the British army set tire to the 
houses on the road ; some were burned to the ground ; several injured ; 
and three more of the brave citizens of Lexington were killed. 

At length the eventful day is passed, — the doleful tocsin is hushed, 
the dreadful voice of the cannon is still. — the storm has passed by. It 
has spent its fury on your devoted village, — your houses have been 
wrapped in flames, — your old men, women, and children, have fled in 
terror from their tiresides, — your brave sons have laid down their lives 
at the threshold of their dwellings, and the shades of evening settle 
down upon your population, worn with fatigue, — heavy with bereave- 
ment and sorrow. What is the character, and Avhat are the conse- 
quences of the day ? — It was one of those occasions, in which the 
duration of ages is compressed into a span. What was done and 
sufl'ered, on that day, will never cease to be felt, in its ulterior conse- 
quences, till all that is America has perished. In the lives of individ- 
uals, there are moments, which give a character to existence ; mo- 
ments too often through levity, indolence or perversity, suffered to pass 
unimproved ; but sometimes met with the fortitude, vigilance, and 
energy due to their momentous consequences. So in the life of nations, 
there are all important junctures, when the fate of centuries is crowded 
into a narrow space, — suspended on the results of an hour. With the 
mass of statesmen their character is faintly perceived, — their conse- 
quences imperfectly apprehended, — the certain sacrifices exaggerated, 
— the future blessings dimly seen ; — and some timid and disastrous 
compromise, — some faint-hearted temperament is patched up, in the 
complacency of short-sighted wisdom. Such a crisis was the period 
which preceded the 19th of April. Such a compromise the British 
ministry proposed, courted, ,nnd would have accepted most thankfully, 
— but not such v/as the patriotism nor the wisdom of those who guided 
the councils of America, and wrought out her independence. They 
knew that in the order of that Providence, in which a thousand years 
are as one day, a day is sometimes, as a thousand years. Such a day 
was at hand. They saw, — they comprehended, — they welcomed it ; — 
they knew it was an era. They met it with feelings like those of 
Luther, when he denounced the sale of indulgences, and pointed his 
thunders at once, — poor Augustine monk, — against the civil and eccle- 

* Sve note B at the end. 



24 

siastical power of the church, tlie Quirinal and the Vatican. They 
courted the storm of war, as Cohimbus courted the stormy billows of 
the glorious ocean, from whose giddy curling tops, he seemed to look 
out, as from a watch-tower, to catch the first hazy wreath in the west, 
which was to announce that a new world was found. The poor Augus- 
tine monk knew and was persuaded, that the hour had come, and 
he was elected to control it, in which a mighty revolution was to be 
wrought in the Christian church. The poor Genoese pilot knew in 
his heart, that he had as it were but to stretch out the wand of his 
courage and skill, and call up a new continent from the depths of the 
sea ; — and Hancock and Adams, through the smoke and tlauu-s oi the 
19th of April, beheld the sun of their country's independence arise, 
with healing in his wings. 

And you, brave and patriotic men, whose ashes are gathered in this 
humble place of deposit, no time shall rob you of the well des'erved 
meed of praise I You too perceived, not less clearly than the more 
illustrious patriots whose spirit you caught, that the decisive hour had 
come. You felt with them, that it could not, — must not be shunned. 
You had resolved it should not. Reasoning, remonstrance had been 
tried ; from your own town-meetings, from the pulpit, from beneath the 
arches of Fanueil Hall, every note of argument, of appeal, of adjuration 
had sounded to the foot of the throne, and in vain. The wheels of destiny 
rolled on ; — the great design of Providence must be fulfilled ; — the issue 
must be nobly met or basely shunned; Strange it seemed, inscrutable 
it was, that your remote and quiet village should be the chosen altar 
of the first great sacrifice. But so it was ; — the summons came and 
found you waiting ; and here in the centre of your dwelling places, 
within sight of the homes you were to enter no more, between the vil- 
lage church where your fathers wnrshijiped, and the grave-yard where 
the}' lay at rest, bravely and meekly, like Christian heroes, you sealed 
the cause with your blood. I'arker, Munroe, lladley, the Harringtons. 
JMuzzy, Brown: — Alas ! ye cannot hear my words ; no voice but that 
of the Archangel shall penetrate your urns ; but to the end of time 
vour remembrance shall be preserved I To the end of time, the soil 
whereon ye fell is holy ; and shall be trod with reverence, while 
America has a name among the nations I 

And now ye are going to lie down beneath yon simple stone, which 
marks the place of your mortal agonj'. Fit spot for your last repose I 

Where should the soldier rest, but ivhere he fell I 

For ages to come, the characters graven in the enduring marble shall 
tell the unadorned tale of your sacrifice ; and ages after that stone 
itself has crumbled into dust, as inexpressive as yours, history — undying 
history, — shall transmit the record. Aye, while the language we speak 
retains its meanings in the ears of men j while a sod of what is now 
the soil of America shall be trod by the foot of a freeman, your names 
and your memory shall be cherished I 



NOTES. 



Nolo A, to page 3. 
The foUowiog is tho list of Captain Parker's couipany 
the lOtli of ,April, 1775. 

Those marked nith an asterisk, were present at the 
April, 1833. 

Bludget Isaac 

Uownian Francis 

Bridge John 

Bridge Joseph 

Brown Francis, Sergeant, wounded 



as thej stood enrolled on 
celebration on the 20th of 



Brown James 

Brown John, killed 

Brown Soiumon, living 

Buckman John 

Chandler John 

Chandler John Jr. 

Child Abijah 

Coniee Joseph, wounded 

Cutter Thomas 

*L)urant Isaac, living 

Eastabrook Joseph 

Fessendcn Nathan 

Fessenden Thomas 

*Fi^k Dr. Joseph, living 

Freeman Nathaniel, wounded 

Green I^aac 

Grimes William 

Jladley Benjamin 

Iladloy Ebenezer 

Iladley Samuel, killed 

liadley Thomas 

Harrington Caleb, killed 

ilarrington Daniel, clerk 

Harrington Ebenezer 

Hurrington Jeremiah 

Harrington John 

Harrington Jonathan 

Harrington Jonathan, jr. killed 

Harrington Jonathan 3d, liviag 

Harringtcin Moses 

Harrington Thaddeus 

Harrington Thomas 

Harrington William 

Hastings Isaac 

*Hoymer John, living 

Lock Amos 

Lock Eenjamin, living, 

*Loring Jonntban, living 

Luring Joseph 

Marrett Amos 

Smith Abraham 

Smith David 

Smith Ebenezer 

Smith Jonathan 

Smith Joseph 

Smitli Pbineas 

Smith Samuel 

Smith Thaddeus 

S-mith William 

Stearns Asahel 

Stone Jonas 

Tidd John, wounded 



*Mason Daniel, living 
Aia>-on Joseph 
I^Iesid Abner 
Merriam Benjamin 
Murrlam WiNiam 
Mulliken Nathaniel 
Munroe Asa 
Monroe Ebenezer 
-Munroe Ebenezer jr. wounded 
Munroe Edmund, lieutenant 
Munroe George 
Munroe Isaac jr. killed 
Munroe Jedediab, wounded in morning, 

killed in the afternoon. 
Munroe John 
Munroe John jr 
Munroe Philemon 
Munroe Robert, ensign, killed 
Munroe William, orderly sg't. 
*Alunroe William jr. living 
Muzzy Amos 

*Parker Ebenezer, living. 
Parker John, captain 
Patker Jonas, kilted 
Parker Thaddeus 
Parkhurst John 
Piirce Solomon, wounded 
Porter Asahel, ot Woburn, killed 
Prince, a negro, wounded 
Raymond John, killed 
Bobbins John, wounded 
Bobbins Thomas 
KobiDson Joseph 
Heed Hammtiod 
Reed Josiah, living 
Peed Joshua 
Reed Nathan 
Keed Robert 
Reed Thaddeus 
Keed William 
Sanderson Elijah 
Sanderson Samuel 
*Simonds Ebenezer, living 
Simonds Josiah 
Simonds Joshua 
Ti.id Samuel 
Tidd William 
Viles Joel 
White Ebenezer 
W illiams John 
Wellington Benjamin 
Wellington Timothy 
Winship John 
W'inship Simeon 
Winship Thomas 
Wymcn James 
Wymau Nathaniel. 



. 26 

Note B, to pago 'i3. 

The proper limits of the occasion precluded a detnil of the interesting occurroncea of 
the rotreal and pur'suit from Lexington to Chiirlestown. One portion of tliese were 
coDiuieuurated at Danvers on the '2()th April, iHlla. i'ext to Lexington, Danvers ful- 
lered more severely than any other town. Seven of the I)anvers company were killed. 
On the late return of the anniversary, the Corner Stone of a ^Monument t-j fheir mem- 
ory was laid at Danvers, with affecting ceremonies and a highly interesting address 
was delivered, by Daniel P. King, Ksq. of that place. 

The following return of all the killed and wounded is taken from the Appendix to 
Mr. Phinney'a pamphlet. 

Lkxi.voiox. Killed in the. mormn^. — Jonas Parker, Robert Monroe, San:uel Iladley, 
Joniithan Harrington, Jr. Isaac Muzzy, Ciileb Harrington, John Brown— 7 

Killed III the afternwn. — Jedediah Monroe, .rnhn Raymond, Nathaniel Wyman — 3. 

Wmuided m the mfrnin^. — Jcihn Robhins, Solumon Pierce, John Tidd, Joseph Ct-meo, 
Ebenezer Monroe, Jr. Thos. Winship, Nathaniel Farmer, Prince Jistabrook, Jedediah 
Munroe — l). 

Wounded in the afternoon. — Francis Brown — 1. 

(Jamurid(;k. Kdled. — \Vm. Marcy, Moses Richardson, John Hicks, Jason Rusiell, 
Ja-nn Wyman, Jason Winship — G. 

Wounded. — Samuel W hittemore — I. 

Missing. — Samuel l-'rost, iSeth Russell — 2. 

CoNCOiiD. Wnunded. — Charles Miles, Nuthan Barnet, Abel Prescott— 3. 

Nkkdham. — Lieut. John Bourn, Elisha Mills, Amos Mills', Nathaniel Chamberlain, 
Jonathan Parker — 5. 

Wuundtd. Eleazer Kinsbury, Tolman — 2. 

SuDBURV. Killed — Josiah Haynes, Asuhcl Reed — 2 

Wounded. Joshua Haynes, Jr. — 1. 

AcioN. Killed — Cdpt. Isaac Davis, Abner Hnsraer, James Hayward — 3 

Bedford. Killed — Jonothan Wilson — 1. Wounded — Job Lauo — 1. 

\Vouun?i. Kdled — Asahol Porter, Daniel Thompson — 2. 

W'unded. George Reed. John Bacon, Johnson — '^ 

Medkokd. Killed — Henry Putnam, William Polly — 2. 

UiiAiiLKSTowN. Killed — James Miller, C. Barber's son — 2. 

Watkutown. Kdled — Joseph Coolidge — 1. 

Fkaminguam. Wounded — Daniel Hemenway — 1. 

])KnHAM. Killed — Elias Haven. Wounded — Israel Everett. 

Stow. Wounded — Daniel Conant. 

RoxuuRV. Mt-s-fting — Elijah Seaver. 

Brookuine. Killed — Isaic Gardner, Esq. — I. 

BiLLKRiCA. Wounded — John Nickels, Timothy Btanchard. 

CiiKLMSFoRD. Wounded — Aaron Chamberlain, Oliver Barron — 2. 

tS\Leu. KilUd — Benjamin Pierce. 

NkwtuM. Wounded — Nofth Wiswell. 

Danvers. Kdled — Henry Jacobs, Samuel Cook, Ebenezor Goldtbwait, George 
Sonthwick. Benjamin Daland, Jotham AVebb, Perley Putnam — 7. 

Wo7inded, Nathan Putnam, Dennis Wallace — 2, 

Missing. Joseph Bell — 1. 

Bkvkrlv. Kdled — Reuben Kenymo — 1. 

Wounded. Nathaniel Cleves, Samuel Woodbury, Wiliom Dodge, 3d — 3. 

LvNN. Killed — Abednego Ramsdcll, Daniel Townsend, William Flint, Thomas Had- 
ley — 4. 

Winded. Joshua Felt, Timothy Monroe — 2 

Minsing. — J(»siah Breed — 1. 
Total. KUled i'd.— Wounded ZO.—Missing 5. 



APPENDIX. 



CELEBRATION AT LEXINGTON, 

20th April, 1835. 

[The following account of tho celebration is taken principally from the 
"Bunker Hill Acrora " of 25th April.] 

At .a legal meeting of the inhabitants of the town of Lexington, on 
Monday, 28th of April, 1834. 

Art, 6. Vu(f(/, unanimously to ha\'e the remains of those who were hilled by tho 
British army, on the morning of the lllth o£ April, 1775. removed and re-entumbed near 
the monument — (with tho consent of their surviving relations.) 

Vottd, to choose a committee of nine persons, to carry the foregoing vote into effect. 
The following gentlemen were chosen, viz : — 

Elias 1'hin.vev, Esq. Chairman. Messrs Charles Reau, 

• en. Saml. Chandler. William Chandler, Esq. 

ilaj. Henj. 0. Wellington. A.mbhose Moriiell, Esq. 

Bkxj. Mi'zzEY, Esq. Col. I'hillip Russell. 
Nathaniel Mulliken, Esq., Secy. 

[Rev. Charles Briggs, appointed by the town as Chairman of the Committee, was ab- 
sent at the South, for tho beneCt of his health, and the committee were, therefore de- 
prived of his assistance.] 

The names of the persons whose Remains were enclosed in the Sar- 
cophagus, were as follows, viz : — 

Jo7ias Parker, Rohert Monroe, Samuel Hadley, Jonathan 

Harrington, Jr. Isaac Muzzey, Caleb Harrington, 

and John Brown. 

These persons belonged to Lexington, and were killed in the morn- 
ing. Three other citizens of Lexington, were killed on the return of 
the British in the afternoon, viz : Jedediah Munroe, John Raymond, 
and Nathaniel AVyman. 

It apj)ears that tiie bodies of the seven individuals belonging to Lex- 
ington, were originally enclosed in long wooden boxes, made of rougli 
hoards and buried in one grave, in a corner of the town burying ground, 
separate and distant from all other graves. Many persons are now liv- 
ing who saw them buried, — among them several survivors of Capt. Par- 
ker's Company, (their associates,) and two daughters of Rev. Jonas 
Clark, maiden l.ailies, now residing in the paternal mansion, in which 
Hancock and Adams were for sometime secreted. 

A few days prior to the late celebration, the remains of these bod- 
ies were disinterred, under the direction of the committee, for the pur- 
pose already stated — the sides of some of the coffins were found, retain- 
ing their original forni, but in a state of almost complete decay, — the 
bones appeared to be more or less decayed. — the sculls and larger bones 

y 



•2i 

were all in a more perfect state than had heeu anticipateJ, — the under 
jaw-bones and teeth were the most ])erfect. The remains were first placed 
in a wooden cofFin, which was enclosed in lead and made air tight — and 
the whole in a mahogany sarcojihagns, 4 feet long by two feet wide ; 
on the sides and ends of which were eight urns, bearing the names and 
emblematical of the individuals whose remains were contained within. 
A deposit was made in tlie Sarcophagus of a thick leaden box, her- 
metically sealed, containing the following articles viz : a cop}' of the 
historj' of the battle of Lexington, by Klias Phiunev, Esi). — a sketch 
of the exercises and odes of the day — a copy of the Bunker-IIill Auro- 
ra, and the Concord Whig, of the Saturday previous — the names of the 
President of the United States, of the Lt. Governor (and acting Gov- 
ernor) of Massachusetts, and of the clergymen of Lexington. To re- 
ceive the Sarcophagus, a tomb was constructed near the foundation of 
the Monument. 

Salutes and minute guns were fired at intervals during the morning, 
and flags raised in honor of the occasion, were waving at half-mast, 
until the close of the funeral services. At an early hour the village 
was filled with visitors to the number of several thousand. Public and 
private houses were all occupied, and had the day been pleasant, it is 
believed a very much larger number of strangers would have been 
present. 



At about 1 1 o'clock, the procession was formed, under a military es- 
cort consisting of the Lexington Artillery and a Volunteer Company 
of Light Infantry, commanded by Capt. J. F. LeBaron and C.apt. Bil- 
lings Smith, near the Monument House. The invited guests had as- 
sembled at the dwelling house of Gen. Chandler, and from thence 
formed in Procession. The procession moved, under a light shower of 
rain, to the burying ground, where the seven victims of the battle were 
originally interred. 

Here the Sarcophagus, containing their remains, was placed on the 
hearse, the Band performing appropriate music during the ceremony, 
and the procession re-formed in the following order: 

Military Escort, with the Boston Band. 

Pill Bearerj. SARCOPHAGUS. Pall Bearers. 

Relatives of the deceased. 

Survivors of aptain I arker's Company' 

Aid — Chief Marsu^l — Aid. 
Chairman Committee of Arrangements. 
Chaplain — Orator — Cbaplain. 
Committee of Arrangements. 

Lt. Governor and Aids. • 

Senators and Representatives in Congress. 

Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States. 

Judges of the Massachusetts ourts and Attorney Oeneial. 

President and Fellows of Harvard College. 

Members of State Legislature. 

OtBoen and Soldi* rs of the Revolution. 

Officers of the Army. Navy and Militia. 

Clergy and other invited guerts. 

Citizens and Strangers. 



29 

On arriving at the Church, (which stands on a part of the battle 
field, built in 1794), the military opened to the right and left ; the Sar- 
cophagus was placed in the broad-aisle, and the Procession entered. 
The pulpit was occupied by the Chaplain and the Reverend Clergy. 
'In front of the pulpit a platform had been raised for the Orator; and 
on each side of him on the platform were seated the survivors of 
Captain Parker's Company. The galleries were occupied exclusively 
by the Ladies. Notwithstanding the unpromising state of the weather 
on the preceding day and in the morning, the church was very much 
crowded, and a platform having been erected around it, the windows 
were also filled wnth hearers. The following was the 

ORDEK OF EXERCISES. 
Dirge— By the Choir. 
Prayer — By Rev. James Walker. 
Ode — By Rev. John Pierpont, 

Tune — "America." 

Long in a nameless grave, 
Rones of the true and brave ! 

Have ye reposed. 
This day, our hands have dressed, 
This day, our prayers have blessed 
A chamber for your rest; 

And now 'tis closed. 

Sleep on, ye slaughtered ones ! 
Your spirit, in your sons, 

Shall guard your dust. 
While winter comes in gloom, 
While spring returns with bloom, 
Nay — till this honored tomb 
Gives up its trust. 

When war's first blast was heard, 
These men stood forth to guard 

Thy house, God ! 
And now thy house shall keep 
Us vigils where they sleep, 
And still its shadow sweep 

O'er their green sod. 

In morning's prime they bled; 
And morning finds their bed 

With tears all wet: 
Tears that thy hosts of light, 
Rising in order bright, 
To watch their tomb all night, 

Shed for them yet. 

N'aught shall their slumber break: 
For ' they shall not awake, 

Nor yet bo raised 
Out of their sleep,' before 
Thy heavens, now arching o'er 
Their couch, shall be no more. — 

TUV NAME DC PRAISED 1 



Crofion — Ry Hon. Edward Eveiett. 



30 

Odt~Bj Miss H. F. Gould. 

Tune — "Arabj's DaugVtor." 

They come from the grave to attest to the story 

That ire, of thoir struggle for Liberty, tell ! — 
Frorii silence and shade ihat her mantle (jf glory 

May fold o'er the first of her Martyrs who fell ! 

Thoy corae that the balm of her breath may perfume them, 

And peacefully then to return to their rest; — 
That we, from her arms, may receive and entomb them, 

Assured that they ODce have reposed on her breast. 

All hail, sacred Relics ! from sixty years sleeping 

Beneath the green turf, where so freely yo bled ; 
Who, shrouded in gore, still the battle ground keeping, 

torsook not the field, though your rital fire fled ! 

In valor's proud bed, with its rich purple o'er you. 

The first blood for Freedom that gushed on the sod, 
Ye lay, when the souls, to the onset that bore 3'ou, 

Had passed with her cause, through your wounds, to their God. 

Behold, blessed Spirits, who, nobly defending 
Vour country, rushed forth from your dwellings of clay, 

The tribute of sorrow and joy wo ore blending 
To you, o'er their dear hallowed ruins lo pay ! 

The hearts of a nation, your monomcnt rearing. 

Hare butlt it of gratitude, i^ir and sublime, 
It rises to heaven, your honored nnnies bearing. 

With earth not to sink, nor to crumble with time. 

The ground, that, as brothers, in pain ye were sowing, 

Imbosomed the seed for a root firm anl deep, 
H hen lifo's crimson fountains were opened and flowing 

To moisten the soil fur the harvest we reap ! 

Forgive then, the view that we take, ere wo sever 

From these broken walls, that for us ye forsook f 
On them or their like again never. never, 

Are we, or the eye that is mortal, to look ! 

We gire them to earth, till the Saviour descending 

U ith beauty for ashes and glory fur gloom, 
Shall speak, white the dead to his voice are attending, 

And life, light, and freedom, are poured through the tomb \ 

After the close of the Exercises in the Church, the procession was 
again formed as before and moving around the enclosed battle field to 
the Monument, the Sarcophai^is was placed within the iron railing, in 
a tomb of stone masonry, prepared to receive it. Three volleys of 
musketry were then fired over the grave, and the procession moved on 
to the Marquee, erected near the Monument House, where a Collation 
was provided for about GOO persons. 

THE MARQUEE 

TV"as of an oblong shape, with enwreathed pillars in the centre and an 
elevated table at the head. There were seven rows of tables, contain- 
nearly 100 plates each, which were all occupied. The marc^uee was 



o 



1 



decorated ■with flags, evergreens and trees, in a very neat and simple 
manner. At the head, were the following inscriptions : 

THE BIRTH-PLACE OF AMERICAX LIBERTT : 
OUR COUNTRY AND OUR CONSTITUTION. 

On the side of the marqnee, right of the President, were the names 
of AVashington, Adams, Hancock, Franklin. On the left, Lafayette, 
Jefferson, Warren, Kosciusko. Near the head of the marquee, on the 
right and left of the President were the names of the Governors of 
Massachusetts : right, Hancock, Bowdoin, S. Adams, Sumner, Strong, 
Sullivan : left. Gore, Gerry, Brooks, Eustis, Lincoln, Davis. The ap- 
pearance of the interior of the marquee, was very appropriate and 
suitable to the occasion, and was creditable to those under whose su- 
perintendence this part of the arrangement was made. 

AVe understand that the painted mottoes, &c., in the marquee were 
politely prepared and furnished for the occasion, by Mr. John Green, 
Jr., of Boston ; the flags and other decorations were loaned by Messrs. 
Samuel Goodrich, and Albert Fearing & Co. Several beautiful 
bouquets were received from the green house of Mr. Gushing of Wa- 
tertown and Winship'3 of Brighton, which added very much to the ap- 
pearance of the tables. 

Great credit is due to Mr. Hayward, of the Monument House, for 
the excellent collation which he provided on the occasion. We have 
never seen a public collation on so extensive a scale, better prepared. 
The company was amply supplied with every thing they could wish, 
served up in the best manner. AVe believe all were satisfied with this 
part of the proceedings of the day. 



Elias Phinney, Esq., Chairman of the Committee of Arrangements, 
presided at the tables. On each side of the President, the invited 
guests were seated, including Lt. Gov. Armstrong, and Aids, Orator 
and Chaplains, Mr. AV^ebster, .Judge Story, President Quincy, Attorney 
General Austin, Adj. Gen. Dearborn, A. H. Everett of Boston, and 
others. The veteran survivors of the revolution were provided with 
seats at the head of the centre tables. A blessing was asked by Rev. 
Henry AA'are, Jr. 

At the close of the collation, the President of the Day addressed the 
assemblage. 

lie remarked that the occurrences and congregation of this day were calculated to deepen our 
feelings of veneration for the events commemorated. It had been an occasion ftr the eiiertise of 
generous teelings in the discharge of an honor due to the glorious dead. He was sure lie could not 
render a more acceptable service to his fellow citizens asseniiiled. than to return their grateful ac- 
Itnowledgenients to the distingiiished guests who have honored the occasion by their presence, and 
particularly to him whose unrivalled eloquence had engaged our attention and stirred our feelings. 
Tile solemn ceremonies of this day would remind us of our obligations to those who spilled their 
blood in the first offering at the shrine of Liberty. It was an otfering, however humble in itself, 
the precursor of great events and consequences to our country and the world. He therefore pro- 
posed as a sentiment — 

The names of those who fell in this first jight for Liberty — The Har- 
ringtons, Monroe, Parker, Brown, Mnzzej', and Hadlej- — these names 
will ever remain honored and cherished, and while the names of other 
heroes shall be forgotten, these will be gratefully remembered so long 
as patriotism shall exist or liberty find a friend. 



32 

The President than ^ave the following complimentary sentiment to 
Lt. Gov. Armstrong: tils Honor the Jj. Governor — His Public eleva- 
tion is but the just reward of his private work. 

Gov. ARMSTRONG remarked that the Orator of the Day had called to mind in an eloquent and 
forcible manner, the singular success which followed the cause of liberty, and the price of blood at 
which it was obtained ; but great as that price was, he believed that even that price was not sufB- 
cient to purchase the liberties we now enjoy. Ue offered the following sentiment— 

Religious and Civil Liberty — The bountiful donations of Almighty 
God — may we prove ourselves worthy recipients of the gifts of the 
Giver. 

A hymn accompanied by the Piano Forte was sung by Goo. W. 
Dixon, in the air of the '^ Marseilles Hymn." 

In announcing the following sentiment, Mr. Phinney, President of 
the Day, remarked : 

Among the numerous blescings secured to us by our invaluabl« ConBtitutinn, there is no one' 
perhaps, upon which the permnnency of fr^e institutions so espentiallv depends aa that of an Inde- 
pendent National Judiciary The Judges of that august tribunal, selected Irom the whole people, 
for their distinguished patriotism, talent and integrity, may well be considered the pride and boast 
(if our country. While they are allowed to exer ise the powers vested in them by the Constitu- 
tion, our liberfies are safe, — pafe from the arbitrary assumption of power on one hand and the 
licentiousness of the paople on the other. Allow me to offer you aa a sentiment — 

The Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States — A Constel- 
lation, whose brightest star is in the East. 

Jud;e STORY replied to this sentiment. He viewed it as an homage, not to an individual, but 
tfl the law itself, of which those who fell at Lexington, and their associates, were the proud assert- 
ora and the proud maintainers. This is the si)ot, where, in defence of Hw, the first blood was 
spilt, which led to our independence. He considered that the people roec in support of law; that 
the three-pence a pound tax on tea was nothing, to the great principle Involved in its admission ; 
that the people regarded it as unconstitutional and unjust to be taxed without representation, and 
therefore resisted it. lie believed that the revolutiou commenced in the town meetings of Massa- 
chusett.-', where the rights of the people were considered and discussed. So was it understood by 
the English Parliament, which in 1774, passed a law to prohibit the town meetings of Massachu- 
setts, except for the necessary purpose of choosing town officers. He quoted a part of the Pream- 
ble to this law, stating that the people had been misled into a mischievous and unwarrantable 
interference with subjects not connected in the regular business they were assembled to do; and 
made some appropriate remarks vipon this " unwarrantable and mischievous taking nf the subjects of 
liberty, right and constitutional law. into their own hands.'" Ue then alluded to the Oration of Mr. 
Everett, which he considered one of the happiest efforts of his life, and concluded with the follow- 
ing sentiment: 

The Order of the Dag — Truly, in the lanp^uage of another as quoted 
by himself, the day is come and the man is come — *' What a glorious 
Jjay is this /" 

[Those words were used by Samuel Adams. Mr. Everett had stated that Adams and Hancock were 
at Rev. Mr. Clark's house when the attack of the British was made at Lexington. It was supposed 
to he one object of the British detachment, to secure their persona. They therefore, by the urgent 
persuasions of their friends, were induced to le:ive Mr. Clark's house for a safer retreat — on tbo 
way, hearing the firing, Adams, "whose prophetic soul 5aw that liberty and independence must 
follow," cried out, " What a glorious morning is this I " 

The President introduced the following sentiment — 
The Orator of the Day — He has done ample justice to the men 
whose individual characters he has this day eulogised — he has thrown 
a halo of glory around humble deeds, more enduring than the grauite 
which covers their remains. 

Mr. EVERETT briefly returned thanks for the kind terms, in which his efforts had been 
noticed : but would not take up the time of the company on a subject eo unimportant, as wliat 
personally concerned himself. He would rather take advantage of the opportunity of addressing 
the company, to pay his humble tribute of respect to the venerable survivorc of the lUth of April, 
1775. He rejoiced to be able to state, that of those enrolled in Captnin Parker's Company of 
Militia, on that day, twelve were still living, of whom two only,— one living at a great distance, 
and one on account of the infirmities of age, — were absent, and the remaining ten now honored 
the company with their presence. He was sure he should gratify every person present, by repest- 
ing their names. They were Dr. Joseph Fiske, Messrs. I>aniel .Mason, Benjamin Locke, William 
Munroe, Jonathan Harrington, Ebcuczer Simoods, .Jonathan Loring, John Hosnier, Isjuic Durant, 
Ju^iAh Reed. Mr. Solomon Brown aud Ebtfuezer Parker wer« abscut. Having named thesw 



38 

vcntTflble pertonB, who hud lii'eii simreJ hy Gracious ProTideuce to eo advanced an nge, and to 
participate in the celebration of tiiis memorable anniTersary, be would only add furtbtir, as u 
suutinietit : — 

77/1^ health of the survivors of Captain ParJcers Company — May* 
they experience in the feelings with which they are met this day, some 
compensation for the anxiety, perils, and sufferings of the 19th of 
April, 1775. 

The President of the Day introduced the following sentiment, by 
remarking — 

I am confident my fellow citizens of Lexington will cordiiilty unite with me in offering a tribute 
of profound respuct to the distinguished Si*nator, whose participation has given an increased 
interest to the ceremonies of this ocea.-ion If any circuuistance can magnify tlie importante of 
the solemn events we commemorate, it. is the respectful notice of those whose exalted wisdom and 
patriotism enable them to di^cern aud duly to appreciate their value. — Allow me theu to say : 

Hon, Daniel Webster — Ilis unshaken integrity and gigantic powers 
of mind are surpassed by nothing m firmness and strength but the 
everlasting hills of his own native State. 

Mr. WEBSTER rose on the announcement of this sentiment, and was received with the applause 
of the whole audience. From the very imperfect notes which we were enabled to take, we cannot 
presume to give a correct sketch of hi.^ remarks We can only mention some of the points touched 
upon. He esteemed it a pleasure and an honor to be invited to be present on this occasion of great 
interest. He supposed there could be no man in this Republic who entertained a. just estimate of 
the value of Liberty, or a just estimate of its cost, who could contemplate the history of Lexington 
battle without strong emotions. Ue inferred this from the natural course of his own feelings. It 
was now many years since he. when a young man, unknown in this Commonwealth, and without a 
Hngle acquaintance in this village, passed a whole day in viewing this Fcene of holy martyrdom, 
and in meditating upon the results consequent, to his country and the world, from that great 
drama, whose first scene was acted here. He could suppose that from the Atlantic to the un- 
trodden wildernesfi, from the farthest East to the Gulf of Mexico, there was not an American 
citizen, who does not possess and feel a degree of happiness, and hope for posterity, intimately 
connected with the occurrence transacted on this spot. He confessed he was not able to hn.it even 
to this continent his view of the consequences of this commencement of the revolutionary war. It 
was designed and accomplished under great hazards, trials, and with wonderful success, for the 
universal cause of liberty. A new world and new state of society was brought to light. It spruug 
up, not like the natural Sun in the East, but a political Sun in the West, as sure to diffuse its liglit 
and accomplish its purpose, as the n:ttural Sun over our heads. It commenced on the Western 
Bhore of the Atlantic, to gladden those who first saw the light, and re-act upon the old continent. 
Aiuerica will yet pay back in this light, the debt she owes for all the knowledge, science, and intelli- 
gence of every description, which she has received from Europe. 

He apoke of the manner in which civil and constitutional law was understood in the early days 
of our revolution. Those early appeals to arms, he said, were not accidental — they were (ounded 
in priuciple, and began in the place where we arc now happily met together. The place, the 
details, so interesting, which we had heard from the voice of eloquence, had filled him with medi- 
tation. He could not but think after ijenerations would consider us, notwithstanding what wc had 
done, tno slow, too inanimate, too little alive to the gre.'it events of the revolution which commenced 
here It was delightful to contemplate thecharacters of the military leaders, oi those days, exerting 
themselves, so differently from the military leaders of history, to secure the rigrhts and liberties of 
the people, The effects of their noble example are felt among the nations of Europe, where not 
an effort, in behalf of the people is made, not a stroke is struck, without reference is made to 
.\merica. Mr. Webster concluded his remarks, of which we know our sketch is very meagre and 
Incomplete, with the following sentiment: — 

Lexington Common — In 1775, a field of blood — in all after time a 
field of glory. 

The President announced the following : — 

Josiah Quincy^ Jr.^ who died April 26, 1775, among the first born 
of the champions of American Liberty — Like the martyrs whose 
memory we this day celebrate — he saw but the daivn of that light he 
prized higher than life. Ilis sons come to honor, but he knoweth it 
not. Peace to his ashes ! 

Hon. JOSIAH QUIXCY, President of Harv.ird College, being called upon for a sentiment, 
remarked that after what had been said by distinguished gentlemen in the church and at tlii.-i 
table, it would not be expected of him that he should nuke a display or a speech. It was time for 
feeling— a time fur thought— a moment of delight^a moment to applaud. He should, therefor*, 
timply reciprocate the swntiment of the chair — 



^ 34 

The town of Lexington — AVhere brave men are raised, :aid brave 
men honoreil. 

Attorney Ocncral AUSTIN bein-^ callc^l upin by the I'resi.lfnt, said — Suppose the rcburied dead, 
while theii- bones were resting? in tlie body of the ehureh, and amidst the multitiirle of people, had 
iwived and addwasej the living assemblv I — The remark is not a strange one, ^aid ho, wy road in 
warred story of the bnnes of the deatl revivinsc, and why might not the<ie bones have again astiuined 
life 1 In what language, think ye, would thev ha%'e addresiied the assembly. If they liad said one 
word, it would have been, that the spirit of MbL-rty mu-'t be preserved by the people who enjoy 
it I \Vho were they, whose Itones wo have tliis day honored? \Vere they the eminent, the di.-*- 
tiuguished, great and honored .' Xo sir, no! They were the people— in(ilviduals of the pooph- 1 
They had been taught and had learned the lesson that, if they would enjoy life and liberty, they 
must by their own arm and strength, by their courage and the bleshing of God, obtain and pre- 
serve it for tliemselves. Let ud learn from their new-made grave, this important lesj^on, here to 
enjoy what they have enabled us to posi«ess. It Is not enough for U9 to say, we had noble and 
brave ancestors — let it be aaid by our posterity, by those who come after us, sixty years henre. 
tliJit they too had noble and generous anceHtura. Liberty must be supported with Law, and Law 
«itli Liberty. 

The detail which we heard this day in the meeting house, showa not only that the men did their 
iluty, but that the women did theirs also : that while the men were tnliiug and brL-aafint,' the foe in 
the field, there were hearts at home bli-eding, and almo-^t bursting %\ith aasiety, and hands toiling 
too, for their country. He gave therefore as a sentiment — 

The Females of Lexington — Worthy mothers of an honorable 

progen\\ 

The Rev. Mr. STET.SOX, after a very happy alIu«ion to the last toast, offered some remarks iu 
reference to the I'uritaus, and quoting the words of tlie address, gave us a sentiment: — 

Tlie last of the Pitritans — Samuel Adams. 

Mr. WKBSTEB made some remarks upon the opening of the revolution — the separate character 
of the colonial govrrnniont.'^— the extent of country — the union and exertion which took place for 
the eonmiou cause of liberty, &c., and concluded by oiTuring the following sentiment :^ 

The libertij and union of the United States — May both be perpetual. 

This was the la^t sentiment announced at the table. The guests retired, and the company sepa- 
rated, highly gratified with the success and hnppy termination of the day, notwithstanding the un- 
propitioua state of the weather in the early part of it. Great credit is justly due to the vigorous 
exertions of the individual members of the Committee of Arningements, alike for the judicious, 
and libi-rul character of their arrangement.^, and fur tlic energetic manner in which they carried 
tiiem into complete eOect. From the peculiar character of the celebration, combining in itself the 
two great features of funeral ceremony and a civil celebration, their duties were necessarily nu- 
merous, responsible and difficult The arrangements eng;iged their almost undivided attention for 
fievernl weeks, and they devoted themselves to it with a zeal and interest worthy of the occasion, 
and highly to the credit of themsiilves and the town of Lexington. The success which in so emi- 
nent a degree crowned their labors, is to us the best proof we can have of the judicious and effect- 
ive character of their arrangements, aud to tliem the best reward for the time and toil which they 
have generously bestowed ujjon them. 



35 



THE POWDER HORN.— [From the Bunker-Hill Aurora.] 

Among the interesting mementos of the 19th of Ajiril, 1775, to which the attention of the company 
assemhled at Lexington, on the late auniversarv, was caUe.l, was the Powder Horn, worn by Mr. 
James H^yward, of Acton, who was killed in Lexington, durin^^ the pursuit, and which was per- 
forated by the ball, that entered Mr. Hayward's body. Mr. Everett observed, that he had bten 
requested by the owner of this interesting relif. Mr. Stevt^ns Hay ward, of Acton, (the nephew of 
the person, b\ whom it was worn on tlie 19th of April, '75) to exhibit to the company, and to 
mention its history. Before doing so, Mr. Everett asked leave to st-ate, that the number of farts 
connected with the occasion, they were met to celebrate, was so great, that he had, in preparing his 
address, been somewhat embarrassed, in making a selection, wiiich could be brought within the 
reasonable limits of such a performance. He had conliufd himself, of necessity, in a great degree 
to those fucts, which had an intimate connection with the village of Lexington; it being quite 
impossible to bring into the narrative all the transactions of that eventful day. He ought, how 
ever in justice to himself, to observe, that he had intended to allude briefly to the incidents of the 
resistance made to the Bi-itish troops at Concord,— the bravery evinced by thf citizens of that place 
and the neighboihood, — the gallantry of Davis, Hornier, Buttrick, and otheis, and in a word, 
the honorable part borne by Concord in the .transactions of the day. He had also intended to 
glance at ths precipitate and calamitous retreat of the enemy, and the important occurrences on 
the line of their flight, through Lexington back to lioston. — Having reached that part of his 
address, his strength f;iik-d him, and he was obliged abruptly to hasten to a close, — which he 
hoped would be considered by all, who took a peculiar interest in those portions of the aCTecting 
history of that day, as a sufficient apology for the seeming neglect. 

The interesting relic which he had been requested to exhibit to the company, was worn by Mr. 
James Haywai-d of Acton, who, on the nightof the 18th, on hearing the alarm of the niovement 
of the royal troops, stjirted with his father, — like all the brave yeomen of the neighborhood, mov- 
ing without the commands of any field officer, and driven by the impulse of individual enthusiasm 
to share in the conflict Mr. Hay ward joined in the hot pursuit from Concord. At the foot of 
Fiske's Hill, in Lexington, being thirsty, he was about passing the west window of the hou.=e, still 
standing at the tout of the hill, toward the well in front of the house A British soldier, who was 
in the house, for the purpose of plunder, perceived him through the window, and stept to the door 
to cut him off as he passed the corner of the house. They levelled their pieces and fired at the 
same moment. The British soldier was killed on the spot ; Mr. Ha> ward received the ball, which 
passed through his powder horn, driving the splinters before it into his body, and languished eight 
hours. It ajipeared that of a pound of powder, which he had taken with him, the whole was nearly 
fired away, and tlint but two or throe of forty bullets, with which he had st-irted, remained. This 
fact sliows the extriiordinarji^ severity of the pursuit. Another fact manifests the high feeling of 
the country- Mr Ilayward died as cruel a death, as man could suffer ; but retaining his reason to 
the last, repeatedly exclaimed, " that he was happy to die in defence of hi>^ rights." Tliese details 
were communicated to Mr. E. in a letter from Mr, Stevens Hayward, the nephew of the .sufferer ; 
and who was led to make the communication at the suggestion of the llev, J. T. Woodbury of 
Acton. Like other traditions of the day, this shows how widely and unanimously the country was 
moved, and pointedly iudicate the sentiment, with which Mr. E. begged leave to conclude — 

Lexington, Concord, and the neighboring towns ; — may the common 
sufferings and efforts of 177o, prove a common bond of harmony and 
good feeling at the present day. 



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